GEORGE 


H-PON 


OF  GALIF.  LIBRARY.  LOS  ANGELES 


X 


THE    OLD 
MEETING    HOUSE 

AND 

VACATION    PAPERS 
HUMOROUS  AND  OTHER 

BY 

REV.  A.  M.  COLTON 


COLLECTED   FOR   PUBLICATION   BY   HIS   BROTHER 

G.    Q.    COLTON 


NEW  YORK 
WORTHINGTON   CO.,  747  BROADWAY 

1890 


COPYRIGHT,  1890,  BY 
G.   Q.  COLTON. 


Press  of  J.  J.  Little  &  Co, 
Astor  Place,  New  York. 


INTRODUCTION. 


DURING  his  long  and  active  ministry 
of  fifty  years,  my  brother — now  in  his 
eighty-first  year — has  written  quite  a 
number  of  papers,  which  have  been 
published  from  time  to  time  in  news- 
papers and  magazines,  and  which  have 
greatly  delighted  his  relatives  and 
friends. 

Some  of  these  papers  were  prepared 
for  special  occasions,  while  others  were 
thrown  off  during  summer  vacations. 
These  latter  are  full  of  boyhood  life 
and  reminiscence. 

3 


2128907 


Introduction. 


Many  friends  have  united  in  a  re- 
quest that  these  papers — or  the  best 
of  them — be  collected  and  published 
in  book  form,  believing  that,  as  they 
had  afforded  pleasure  to  his  friends, 
they  would  give  a  like  pleasure  to  a 
larger  reading  public. 

These  papers  are  too  valuable  to  be 
forgotten  and  lost.  They  are  instinct 
with  life  and  living  properties  ;  bright, 
fresh,  breezy,  wholesome,  like  his  and 
my  own  native  Green  Mountain  air. 
Humor  has  an  accepted  home-berth  in 
all  good  speech  and  print.  Shake- 
speare tells  us  of— 

"  Mirth  and  merriment, 

Which  bars  a  thousand  harms,  and  lengthens 
life." 


Introduction. 


And  the  good  Book  says :  "A  merry 
heart  doeth  good  like  a  medicine."  We 
have  tears  enough  in  our  human  life  at 
its  best.  Let  us  have  more  of  sun- 
shine, if  we  may  ;  or,  if  tears,  then 
sunlight  through  them,  and  that  will 
make  rainbows. 

In  urging  upon  my  brother  the  pub- 
lication of  these  papers,  I  told  him  that 
one  distinguished  clergyman,  uniting 
in  the  above  request,  had  said  to  me 
that  many  worthy  ministers  of  the 
olden  time  are  remembered  to-day 
as  much  for  the  fine  vein  of  humor 
running  through  their  writings  as 
for  anything  they  have  left  behind 
them. 

My  brother  finally  gave  me  the  pa« 


Introduction. 


pers,  to  do  with  them  as  I  might  think 
best. 

I  have  selected  from  the  large  num- 
ber such  as  I  thought  would  best  please 
the  reader. 

The  more  sedate  and  sober  read- 
ers will,  likely,  be  best  pleased  with 
"Touches  of  the  Hampshire  County 
Ministers,"  and  "  Letter  read  at  the 
One  Hundred  and  Fiftieth  Anniver- 
sary of  the  First  Church  in  Amherst;" 
while  those  who  seek  betimes  a  need- 
ful rest  and  relish  in  some  "gayer 
hours"  and  "merry  mild,"  or,  per- 
chance— 

"  Mirth  that  wrinkled  Care  derides, 
And  Laughter  holding  both  his  sides  "— 

will  find,  maybe,  their  mood  and  occa- 


Introduction. 


sion  best  met  in  those  brisker  touches, 
"The  Old  Meeting-House,"  "The 
Colton  Tribe,"  "  Reminiscences  of 
Boyhood  Life,"  and  "  New  and  Old." 
In  his  apology  for  printing  "  The 
Pilgrim's  Progress "  John  Bunyan 
wrote : 

"  Some  said,  John,  print ;  others  said,  Not  so  : 
Some  said,  It  might  do  good;  others  said,  No." 

G.  Q.  COLTON. 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 

INTRODUCTION 3 

THE  OLD  MEETING-HOUSE 1 1 

THE  COLTON  TRIBE.    LONGMEADOW  PAPER..    37 

THINGS  NEW  AND  OLD 58 

TOUCHES  OF  THE  HAMPSHIRE  MINISTERS 79 

THE  OLD  WEBSTER'S  SPELLING-BOOK 103 

REMINISCENCES  OF  BOYHOOD  LIFE 126 

LETTER  READ  AT  THE  ONE  HUNDRED  AND 
FIFTIETH  ANNIVERSARY  OF  THE  FIRST 
CONGREGATIONAL  CHURCH  OF  AMHERST, 
MASS 144 

REMARKS  MADE  AT  THE  ONE  HUNDREDTH 
ANNIVERSARY  OF  THE  FOUNDING  OF  THE 
"  HAMPSHIRE  GAZETTE  " 170 

A  LEAF  OR  Two  FROM  MY  NOTES  OF  TRAVEL 

FORTY  YEARS  AGO 182 

9 


io  Contents. 

PAGE 

TOUCHES  AND  RECOLLECTIONS  OF  THE  ED- 
WARDS CHURCH 194 

REMARKS  AT  THE  CENTENNIAL  CELEBRATION 
OF  THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  THE  WEST- 
HAMPTON  CONGREGATIONAL  CHURCH 213 

PAPER  READ  BEFORE  THE  CONGREGATIONAL 
CLUB  AT  GREENFIELD,  MASS 226 

SHOALS  LETTER,  No.  i 248 

SHOALS  LETTER,  No.  2 260 

A  SERMON  ON  THE  POWER  OF  HABIT 270 


THE 

OLD   MEETING-HOUSE. 


BOYHOOD    RECOLLECTIONS 
OF    1812-20. 

WHAT  a  grand  sight  it  was  to  our 
young  eyes  !  With  steps  like  a  chick- 
en's, we  rounded  the  hill  three-quarters 
of  a  mile  off,  and  there,  bursting  upon 
our  sight,  was  the  village,  with  the 
old  meeting-house  in  the  centre.  The 
village!  What  a  wonder  that  was! 
More  than  twenty  houses  in  plain 
sight !  Those  village  people  must  be 
great  folks.  High  life,  surely,  to  live 
in  a  village.  The  marvel  was  how 


ii 


12          The  Old  Meeting-House. 

so  many  folks  could  contrive  to  live 
at  all  so  near  each  other — as  many 
as  four  houses  within  a  quarter  of  a 
mile ! 

But  the  great  thing  was  the  meet- 
ing-house. That  was  a  sight — to  us  it 
was.  Just  look  at  that  steeple,  'way  up 
there,  seeming  as  if  it  would  almost 
touch  the  stars  !  It  was  a  huge  house 
(so  we  thought) — "  longer  than  it  was 
broad  " — and  our  eyes  fairly  swam  with 
dizziness  as  we  looked  up  from  under 
the  eaves.  It  wasn't  painted  outside 
nor  in.  No  matter  :  we  hadn't  reached 
the  conception  of  that,  and  so  there 
was  no  drawback  to  our  admiration. 
We  hadn't  read  Mrs.  Opie  on  white- 
lying,  nor  had  we  then  seen  white- 
lead.  It  was  our  meeting-house,  and 
nothing  could  surpass  it. 


Boyhood  Recollections.  13 

And  then  to  go  inside !  "  And  still 
the  wonder  grew."  Pulpit,  pews,  and 
pillars ;  stairs,  galleries,  walls,  ceilings 
— all  of  them  wonderful.  Ceiling  in 
sight,  if  you  looked  up  far  enough,  and 
galleries  midway;  pulpit  close,  stiff, 
angular,  straight,  orthodox  (in  the  lit- 
eral sense),  yet  grand  because  so  high. 
It  seemed  almost  perilous  for  one  to 
stand  up  there  so  high,  and  throw 
down  words  as  boys  do  stones  from  a 
hill-top.  But  there  was  a  sublimity 
about  it  that  awed  us.  And  our  seat 
by  that  pillar  in  the  north  gallery, 
where  First  Person  Singular  sat,  and 
saw,  and  wondered — and  listened  to 
the  minister,  'tis  said,  with  ears,  eyes, 
and  mouth  all  open  !  Better  that  than 
be  sleeping  in  such  a  place. 

And  then   the  singers'  end    of   the 


14         The  Old  Meeting- House. 

gallery.  Old  Deacon  H.  and  pitch- 
pipe  giving  off  those  now  venerable 
but  almost  fabulous  antiquities — Ma- 
jesty, Lenox,  Exhortation,  Greenwich, 
and  "  Fly  swifter  round "  (we've  for- 
gotten the  name) — fugues,  where  one 
party  started  off  alone,  and  another 
followed  on,  and  then  another  and  an- 
other— bass,  treble,  tenor,  counter,  in 
most  admirable  confusion,  leaving  one 
in  doubt  how  or  where  they  would 
fetch  up.  And  then  to  look  down  into 
those  pews,  lots  of  them,  and  lots  of 
people  in  them.  No  chapel  of  ease 
this.  No  fire  in  winter,  except  the 
many  in  the  foot-stoves.  Not  one 
cushion  in  the  house.  The  people 
meant  to  "endure  hardness."  Backs 
of  pews  bolt  upright,  and  high  as  the 
head — wise  precaution,  no  doubt,  and 


Boyhood  Recollections.  i5 

seemingly  with  the  same  intent  with 
which,  in  the  case  of  the  literal  flock, 
the  farmer  adds  the  sixth  rail.  Good 
landmarks  and  fences  are  something. 
Large,  square  pews,  for  three  times 
four,  comfortably.  And  the  seating — 
one-third  part  facing  the  minister, 
this  and  another  third  facing  each 
other,  and  the  remaining  third  facing 
the  north  or  south,  while  the  preacher 
was  in  the  east.  Thus  all  points  of  the 
compass  received  due  attention.  We 
have  a  dim  speck  of  a  recollection  that 
it  seemed  to  us  a  little  queer  to  see 
people  (the  odd  third  in  the  pew) 
looking  off  on  vacancy  northward,  lis- 
tening to  sounds  coming  from  the 
direction  of  sun-rising.  But  we  ought 
to  have  considered  that  faith  cometh 
by  hearing.  This  pew  arrangement 


1 6         The  Old  Meeting- House. 

was  not  without  its  advantages.  Peo- 
ple should  be  honest  in  the  week, 
to  look  each  other  in  the  face  in  the 
meeting-house  on  Sunday.  And  for 
the  other  third  part,  suggesting  the 
fear  that  more  than  that  proportion 
are  wont  to  be  looking  off  mentally  on 
things  outside.  But  so  uncharitable  a 
thought  did  not  trouble  us  in  those 
days. 

"If  ignorance  is  bliss,  'tis  folly  to  be  wise." 

That  old  meeting-house  was  never 
used  as  a  chess-board.  People  were 
not  moved  about  in  the  house,  now  to 
this  part  and  now  to  that.  They  owned 
and  occupied  their  pews,  as  they  did 
their  farms,  in  perpetuity.  A  family 
pew  was  a  possession  and  a  fixture. 
There,  year  after  year,  sat  old  Squire 


Boyhood  Recollections.  17 

T.,  and  there  Captain  B. — almost  all 
were  squires  or  captains,  except  the 
uncles.  We  uncled  nearly  all  in  our 
neighborhood — we  mean  the  men.  It 
was  Uncle  Roger,  and  Uncle  Jesse, 
and  Uncle  Joe — the  latter  affection- 
ately and  well-intended,  certainly,  but 
seeming,  perhaps,  to  an  outsider  to  be 
a  little  wanting  in  proper  respect. 

And  our  minister,  Mr.  D.  "  Rever- 
end" had  a  meaning  then.  He  was  a 
godly  man  ;  we  thought  so  then,  and 
think  so  still.  Our  veneration  of  him 
went  up  almost  to  the  degree  of  awe. 
Never,  in  passing  us  in  the  road  (streets 
we  hadn't  heard  of  then)  did  he  get 
within  five  rods  of  us  without  finding 
our  voices  hushed,  and  our  caps  doffed. 
Courtly  and  condescending,  grave  but 
not  austere,  "  affectionate  in  look  and 


1 8         The  Old  Meeting-House. 

tender  in  address,"  thinking  great 
thoughts,  and  noticing  small  children, 
and,  wherever  meeting  us,  calling  us  all 
by  our  names.  Small  book  in  his  left 
hand,  and  smaller  sermon  in  the  book 
(smaller  in  square  inches),  held  up  be- 
fore him,  and  read  from.  Read  "coldly 
correct  and  critically  dull  ?"  Not  so  at 
all ;  but  with  such  varied  tones  and 
emphasis,  such  chastened  fervor,  such 
tremulous  energy  and  earnestness,  as 
did  not  fail  to  win  the  ear,  inveterate 
sleepy-heads  always  excepted.  Sel- 
dom an  open  gesture,  and  never  a 
broad  sweep  of  the  hand  ;  but  the  soul 
of  eloquence  was  there,  and  came  out 
not  much  helped  nor  hindered  by 
"  the  bodily  exercise  which  profiteth 
little." 

We   may  as  well    confess  a  foible. 


Boyhood  Recollections.  19 

"  Three  weeks  from  next  Tuesday,  and 
then  June  Training!"  Expectation 
on  tiptoe.  The  days  counted,  and  the 
hours  exactly,  and  no  mistake.  Stints 
done  better  than  usual.  The  distance 
grows  "  small  by  degrees  and  beauti- 
fully less."  And  Sunday  afternoon 
before  the  Tuesday.  "  There's  the 
Captain  !  "  Sure  enough,  Captain  L. 
He  was  seldom  at  church  on  other 
Sundays.  Why  on  this  ?  Had  we 
been  older,  we  should  perhaps  have 
almost  suspected  a  lurking  vanity,  as 
if  he  came  this  time  not  to  hear, 
but  to  be  seen.  Possibly,  to  some  of 
the  knowing  ones,  it  did  seem  as  if 
the  real  meaning  was  "  Here  am  I, 
the  Captain  L.;  attention  the  whole!" 
But  we  hadn't  then  got  along  so  far 
into  superfluity  of  naughtiness  as  to 


2O         The  Old  Meeting-House. 

be  troubled  much  with  such  hard 
thoughts.  Our  childish  simplicity 
didn't  dive  below  the  surface  of  the 
matter.  Not  unlikely  we  were  too 
full  of  the  Captain  and  the  training 
(Sunday  though  it  was)  to  allow  of 
our  philosophizing  or  moralizing  very 
profoundly. 

And  now  for  the  surroundings  of 
the  old  meeting-house,  especially  the 
"  Green "  and  the  trainings  on  it. 
Training  day !  Long  morning  that 
from  four  to  nine.  Lucky  we  if 
chancing  to  fall  in  with  a  trainer  hav- 
ing gun,  cartridge-box,  knapsack,  and 
canteen !  We  were  somewhat  filled 
with  his  company  in  that  mile  or 
more.  It  seemed  three  miles  to  our 
eagerness.  Codger  in  dress  and  gait 
(not  we,  but  our  trainer),  but  valor- 


Boyhood  Recollections.  21 

cms,  no  doubt ;  and  bravely  did  he 
march  up  to  Lieutenant  J.'s,  and,  with 
gun  pointing  downward  at  an  angle  of 
forty-five  degrees,  give  the  customary 
salutation  in  honor  of  his  superior. 
And  now  please  walk  in.  Pine  table, 
stone  jugs,  glass  decanters  and  tum- 
blers, unless  pewter — and  enough  for 
all,  trainer  and  satellites.  And  then 
to  reach  the  brow  of  the  hill  and  lis- 
ten !  Shrill  fife  with  Yankee  Doodle, 
and  drums  with  rub-a-de-dub.  How 
the  ears  tingled,  and  the  pulse  quick- 
ened, and  the  steps — our  steps- 
bounded  on  in  double-quick  time ! 
And  there  were  the  companies — two 
foot  and  one  horse — Light  Infantry, 
Floodwood,  and  the  Troopers.  We 
somehow  liked  the  looks  of  the  troop- 
ers when  in  motion.  But  cui  bonof 


22          The  Old  Meeting- House. 

Their  manoeuvrings  were  a  thing 
past  our  comprehension.  An  array 
somewhat  imposing — horses,  saddles, 
holsters,  pistols,  bridles,  martingales, 
spurs,  and  such  lots  of  brass ;  but 
chiefly  the  flannel  red  coats,  and  huge 
caps  of  bearskin,  where  the  hair  ought 
to  grow.  But  how  they  could  do 
much  in  real  fight,  was  a  puzzle.  The 
horses  could  run  away,  if  fed,  and  not 
wounded ;  and  if  they  carried  their 
riders  with  them,  that  was  something. 
Safety  in  flight  might  come  to  be 
the  main  chance.  The  horsemanship 
didn't  get  its  excellence  from  drilling 
in  riding-schools.  Those  diverse  jolt- 
ings and  hitchings  and  losings  of  stir- 
rup didn't  tell  of  assiduous  culture  in 
the  science  and  art.  The  great  thing 
seemed  to  be  not  to  fall  off,  which  in 


Boyhood,  Recollections.  23 

an  unpleasant  sense  would  have  been 
"  ground  and  lofty  tumbling."  The 
horses  were  not  very  orderly  in  their 
movement.  Probably  they  did  not 
understand  as  well  as  their  riders  did 
what  all  this  meant,  nor  whereunto  it 
would  grow.  War  horses  they  cer- 
tainly were  not,  in  mien  and  mettle. 
They  had  snuffed  more  of  harrow-dust 
than  of  villanous  saltpetre.  But  the 
foot  companies  were  a  thing  more 
comprehensible.  Our  town  could 
boast  of  the  best  drumming  in  the 
whole  regiment.  We  had  the  drum- 
major — honor  enough  for  one  town. 
But  in  our  common  soldiery,  the  rank 
and  file,  there  was  nothing  remarkably 
good,  nothing  very  orderly,  except  the 
orderly  sergeant.  When  in  line,  the 
line  was  more  a  zig-zag,  like  a 


24          The  Old  Meeting-House. 

Virginia  worm-fence.  The  platoon 
wheeled  round,  and  round  it  would 
have  been,  had  it  not  been  more  a  hol- 
low square.  It  was  always  a  mystery 
to  us,  that  with  such  music,  so  much  of 
it  and  so  good,  the  soldiers  in  march- 
ing did  not  keep  step  better.  The 
timing  was  really  little  short  of  exe- 
crable, especially  in  Floodwood.  We 
had  a  notion  that  a  soldier's  air  and 
movement  should  show  a  something 
spruce  and  prim,  should  be  elate,  reso- 
lute, precise,  prompt.  But  our  sol- 
diers, many  of  them,  stooped,  and  lag- 
ged, boggled,  and  jogged  on  badly. 
Some  of  them  probably  didn't  care 
much  if  it  was  so,  so  they  might  es- 
cape the  fine.  Certainly,  two  of  them, 
R.  C.  and  J.  G.,  whether  in  line  or 
march,  were  always  full  of  waggish- 


Boyhood  Recollections.  25 

ness  and  drollery,  making  wry  faces 
and  poking  fun.  It  was  a  great  shame. 

The  election  of  officers  came,  and 
that  was  a  great  affair.  To  see  Mr. 
Such-a-One  trudge  out  from  the 
ranks,  turn  and  face  the  company, 
take  off  his  hat,  and,  with  a  jerk  of  the 
head  as  perilous  as  it  was  graceful, 
begin  by  thanking  his  "  fellow-sol- 
diers "  for  the  honor  they  had  con- 
ferred on  him  in  choosing  him  to  be 
corporal,  and  end  with  a  promise  to 
"  serve  them  to  the  best  of  his  abil- 
ity." It  was  a  set  speech,  formal  and 
stereotyped,  though  never  seen  in 
print.  This,  in  the  manner  of  it,  was 
the  most  starchful  thing  ever  seen  in 
Floodwood. 

We  remember  to  have  experienced 
a  slight  feeling  of  the  comical  at  hear- 


26          The  Old  Meeting-House. 

ing  some  of  the  "  orders  "  which  were 
given  out.  "  Eyes  right !  "  "  Eyes  left ! " 
What  could  that  mean  ?  And  then, 
"  Shoulder  arms  !  "  "  Order  arms  !  " 
"  Ground  arms  !  "  "and  "  Rest !  "  fol- 
lowed by  the  scattering  ding  and 
racket. 

But  our  most  vivid  recollections 
are  the  captains — the  special  attrac- 
tion— how  they  looked  and  carried 
themselves  in  full  regalia.  How  Cap- 
tain E.,  though  tall,  was  pale-faced, 
round-shouldered,  stooped,  and  lacked 
presence.  How  Captain  T.  was  straight, 
and  vertical,  even  to  bending  back- 
ward ;  was  pompous,  pert,  and  jerk- 
tongued,  and  was  nothing  but  pres- 
ence. How  Captain  H.  was  small 
in  stature,  but  made  up  for  this  defect 
by  a  strut  so  resolute  and  forceful  as 


Boyhood  Recollections.  27 

almost  lifted  him  off  from  the  ground. 
How  Captain  B.  had  a  swaggering 
gait,  like  a  Missourian,  and  swayed  his 
head  from  side  to  side,  thus  showing  to 
better  advantage  "  the  waving  plume." 
How  Captain  L.  was  freckle-faced, 
but  smart,  and  attended  meeting  one 
half-day  in  the  year.  The  Captain 
T.  was  notedly  a  very  close  man  in 
money  matters.  Stingy,  they  called 
him.  And  when  the  "  treat "  came, 
and  the  bottle  of  new  rum  went  round, 
one  soldier  tasting,  cast  a  significant 
look  at  another,  saying  (in  whisper)  : 
"  Not  the  choicest,  but  cheap  !  " 

Memorable  days  to  us,  those  train- 
ings, and  memorable  place  that  meet- 
ing-house Green.  Great  days  those  for 
the  taverns  and  stores.  The  toddy- 
stick  went  faster  than  the  pump-handle. 


28          The  Old  Meeting-House. 

The  town  pump  was  mainly  supple- 
mental, to  put  out  the  fires.  Old  and 
young  drank  alike  ;  many  to  mellow- 
ness, some  to  fuddleness,  some  few  to 
the  ditch,  and  all  (nearly)  to  shame. 
Sad  results  to  that  people — wrecks  and 
ruins,  and  many  a  drunkard's  grave. 
May  the  fifth  generation  from  that  be 
so  happy  as  to  find,  if  possible,  its 
blood  run  clear  of  the  hereditary  taint 
of  rum  and  gin  !  The  trainings  have 
gone  by,  and  with  them  {par  nobile 
fratrum)  the  taverns  and  tipplings 
—mostly.  Go  they  may,  and  be 
choked  in  the  sea.  We  shall  shed 
no  tears  over  that  part  of  the  matter. 
In  those  early  days  the  old  Green 
was  under  two  regencies,  both  of  them 
arrogant  and  despotic  :  the  trainers 
having  dominion  two  days  of  the  year, 


Boyhood  Recollections.  29 

and  the  geese  the  rest.  Now  the  geese 
are  monarchs  of  the  entire  sweep. 
Both  companies  bipeds ;  both  with 
regimentals,  the  latter  having  their 
own  feathers,  and  the  plain,  plebeian 
shingle  yoke  ;  both  warlike  in  aspect, 
and  ready  upon  occasion  to  show 
fight ;  both  with  marchings  and  -strut- 
tings  and  music  of  their  own  ;  and 
both  somewhat  addicted  to  the  pool. 
Which  of  these  two  classes  of  bipeds 
were  most  needful  to  the  public  weal, 
or  have  done  most  to  save  the  country 
from  war,  is  a  question  for  a  debating 
club.  The  War  of  1812  was  then 
over ;  and  certain  it  is  not  one  of 
those  "  fellow-soldiers"  has  ever  seen 
Florida,  or  Mexico,  or  Kansas,  or 
Utah.  Perhaps  the  House  of  Repre- 
sentatives in  Washington  have  struck 


30          The  Old  Meeting-House. 

for  consolidation,  and  intend  to  mo- 
nopolize the  country's  fightings,  doing 
the  whole  themselves,  representatively 
and  sufficiently. 

We  should  like,  before  taking  off 
these  yarns  from  the  reel,  to  say  a 
word  about  some  of  the  men  who  in 
that  olden  time  figured  prominently  in 
that  place.  One  only  will  we  name- 
Squire  Blodget.  Square  Blodget  was 
the  title  he  went  by.  He  was  decid- 
edly a  character — almost  an  institution. 
Coarse  and  gruff,  inside  and  out ;  pas- 
sionate, pugnacious,  and  nettlesome  ; 
vexing  himself  with  his  own  prickles, 
like  a  hedge-hog  rolled  up  the  wrong 
way ;  bushy  head,  thick  lips,  pug  nose, 
small  eyes ;  wrinkled,  vinegar-faced, 
short-bodied,  and,  like  the  razor-seller, 
"  with  voice  most  musical,  and  not  un- 


Boyhood  Recollections.  31 

like  an  Indian  yell."  We  have  never 
since  been  able  to  read  or  think  of 
old  Diogenes,  the  cynic  and  snarling, 
without  coupling  (mentally)  the  re- 
nowned original  and  the  unworthy 
copy  together — though  the  tub  part 
would  never  have  answered  for  Squire 
Blodget,  so  restless  was  he,  and  in 
such  perpetual  motion.  We  supposed 
he  must  have  slept,  as  other  men  do  ; 
Tor  such  wear  and  tear  must  have  de- 
manded rest,  at  least  semi-occasionally. 
He  was  (to  speak  within  bound)  about 
the  Grossest,  crookedest,  crabbedest 
stick  we  ever  set  eyes  on.  He  had  a 
sort  of  ubiquity  for  all  gatherings, 
large  or  small.  Whoever  else  was  not 
there,  Squire  Blodget  was.  He  had 
one  standing  topic  of  talk,  was  famil- 
iar with  it,  and  he  never  tired  of  it. 


32          The  Old  Meeting-House. 

In  all  times  and  places  he  was  ever- 
lastingly sputtering  about  "  Jefferson 
and  democracy."  Sometimes  he  came 
to  meeting  of  a  Sunday,  though  sel- 
dom. But  when  he  did  come,  it  was 
to  have,  if  possible,  a  talk  with  some- 
body about  Jefferson  and  democracy. 
It  was  so  much  gained  if,  using  all  dili- 
gence, he  got  there  in  the  morning  ; 
for  that  would  give  him  the  whole 
noon-time,  at  the  tavern  across  the 
way,  to  talk  against  the  forenoon  ser- 
mon, and/0r  Jefferson  and  democracy. 
The  sermon  was  used  for  an  exordium, 
but  it  somehow  opened  out  straight 
and  quick  into  Jefferson  and  democ- 
racy. The  versatility  seemed  marvel- 
ous ;  but  he  had  it,  and  it  was  equal 
to  all  exigencies.  But  June  training 
was  a  long  day,  and  then  he  had  full 


Boyhood  Recollections.  33 

swing,  and  was  autocrat  and  inexor- 
able. There  was  no  escaping  him. 
Whatever  knot  of  men  or  boys  might 
have  gathered  at  the  corner  of  the 
meeting-house,  and  might  be  talking 
quietly  and  cozily  of  common  mat- 
ters, in  would  come  old  Squire  Blodget 
to  have  his  say,  and  all  the  say,  and 
always  about  Jefferson  and  democracy. 
The  mustard-pot  fell  into  the  milk-pan. 
He  was  great  for  any  discussion  hav- 
ing only  one  side,  and  that  his.  He 
was  "  First  Disputant  "  and  "  Senior 
Wrangler  "  in  one. 

Do  not  think,  reader,  that  our  Squire 
Blodget  was  the  worst  man  extant. 
Not  so.  He  had  good  qualities.  He 
was  frank-hearted  and  out-spoken. 
What  he  was  at  all,  he  was  openly. 
He  was  himself,  neither  less  nor  more, 

3 


34          The  Old  Meeting-House. 

and  not  somebody  else  in  disguise. 
Politician  he  was,  but  without  the 
artifice  and  snakiness.  You  knew 
just  where  to  find  him — him  himself, 
the  genuine  article,  most  unmistakably 
the  real  and  redoubtable  old  Squire 
Blodget. 

The  old  meeting-house  has  v  a  se- 
quel— a  painful  part,  and  a  pleasant. 
When  the  warlike  demonstrations 
around  it  began  to  pass  away,  then 
came  "  fightings  within."  Two  oppos- 
ing sects  claimed  the  house,  and  con- 
tended vehemently  for  the  possession 
and  use.  Long  and  bitter  was  the 
feud.  "  From  words  they  almost  came 
to  blows."  But  they  became  sick  of 
the  strife.  The  business  didn't  pay,  as 
it  never  does.  The  parties,  agreeing 
to  differ,  at  length  left  off  the  conten- 


Boyhood  Recollections.  35 

tion,  and  left  the  house,  and  built 
anew,  each  for  itself.  Then  (some 
years  later)  the  town,  all  parties  unit- 
ing, voted,  with  most  commendable 
public  spirit,  to  repair  the  house,  paint 
it  handsomely,  new  shingle  it,  and  'let 
it  stand,  and  tell  their  children's  chil- 
dren of  what  their  fathers  were  and 
did.  And  there  "  the  old  white  meet- 
ing-house "  does  stand  to-day :  me- 
mento, silent,  yet  expressive,  eloquent, 
instructive — one  of  the  costliest,  grand- 
est, goodliest  structures  of  the  Green 
Mountain  State. 

We  now  and  then  go  back  to  revisit 
the  scene.  We  love  to  tread  that 
same  old  Green  in  some  calm  hour 
toward  sunset  of  a  summer's  day.  We 
wish  to  go  there  alone,  that  we  may 
the  better  indulge  in  musings  and 


36          The  Old  Meeting- House. 

memories  of  other  days.  We  go 
around  the  house,  now  looking  up  to 
the  eaves,  now  leaning  against  the 
brown-stone  corner,  and  now  seat- 
ing ourselves  on  the  steps  in  front. 
Home!  our  town  and  our  meeting- 
house— place  where  we  were  born, 
and,  we  hope,  were  born  again.  Not 
another  spot  on  earth  so  sets  us  to 
thinking.  Loved  scene  to  us,  and — 

"  Meditation  here 
May  think  down  hours  to  moments." 

"  Here  much  I  meditate,  as  much  I  may, 
With  other  views  of  men  and  manners  now 
Than  once,  and  others  of  a  life  to  come." 


THE   COLTON   TRIBE. 

AN   ADDRESS 

DELIVERED  AT  THE  LONGMEADOW  CENTENNIAL, 
OCTOBER  17,  1883. 


MR.  PRESIDENT  AND  GOOD  FRIENDS  : 

In  our  present  quest  we  do  not 
propose  to  go  back  to  Adam,  nor  to 
Noah.  We  stop  this  side  of  the  Flood 
and  of  the  Red  Sea.  We  begin  at 
Moses — our  Moses,  my  Moses,  Mr. 
President — otherwise  named  Quarter- 
master George  Colton.  Let  alone 
Egypt.  Let  alone  England,  except 
just  to  say  that  the  said  George  afore- 
said came  over  from  Sussex,  a  south- 
east county  in  the  Fatherland,  about 
the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  cen- 


38  The  Colton   Tribe. 

tury.  No  matter  for  anything  beyond. 
Enough,  and  good  enough,  this  side. 
No  great  concern  whether  the  first 
man  ever  named  Colton  was  Norman, 
Swede,  Celt,  or  Turk.  Don't  propose 
to  go  into  fits  over  the  question 
whether  the  Coltons  across  the  brine 
were  of  princely  blood  or  plebeian. 
That  is  no  great  shakes  anyway.  The 
real  point  is,  What  are  we,  and  what 
do  we  ?  All  else  is  fustian  and  pru- 
nella. We  make  personal  confession, 
that  for  groping  one's  way  by  light  of 
a  tallow  candle  through  "  endless  gen- 
ealogies "  we  have,  in  this  short  life, 
no  time,  tact,  nor  taste.  Had  indeed 
a  little  rather  not  have  come  up  (or 
down)  from  ape,  tadpole,  or  clam,  as 
the  evolutionists  would  have  it. 

Quartermaster   George  Colton — on 


The  Co  It  on    Tribe.  39 

him  we  plant  ourselves,  and  shake 
fists  at  all  questioners  and  comers. 
We  have  in  him  an  honorable  and 
auspicious  beginning.  He  is  found  a 
magistrate  in  Springfield  at  almost  its 
earliest,  and  before  Longmeadow  is 
even  a  precinct,  or  is  more  than  a  pas- 
ture for  flocks.  Came  among  the  first, 
if  not  the  first,  to  what  is  now  this 
goodly  place  and  name.  Was  a  wise 
master-builder,  and  laid  here  good 
foundations,  whereof  we  this  day  are 
witnesses.  Had  nine  children,  and 
that  was  auspiciovis  prophecy.  And 
famous  children  they  were — altogether 
redoubtable.  Isaac,  Ephraim,  Mary, 
Thomas,  Sarah,  Deborah,  Hephzibah, 
John,  and  Benjamin.  There !  Scrip- 
tural, Biblical,  every  one — patriarch 
and  evangelist  face  to  face  ;  both  Tes- 


40  The  Cotton   Tribe. 

laments  drawn  from,  not  to  say  ex- 
hausted ;  not  a  heathen  name  among 
them.  If,  from  all  the  hoary  regis- 
ters of  time,  any  man  can  cite  the 
equal  family  record,  let  him  stand  up 
and  be  counted. 

And  if  Quartermaster  George  was 
great,  a  still  greater  than  he,  perhaps, 
was  his  son  Thomas,  our  Joshua,  Cap- 
tain Thomas  Colton — like  John  Gil- 
pin, 

"  A  citizen 

Of  credit  and  renown, 

A  train-band  captain  eke  was  he." 

He  was  the  hornet  against  the  peo- 
ple who  had  dwelt  in  the  land.  For 
it  came  to  pass  when  they  set  them- 
selves to  overcome  him,  he  joined  bat- 
tle and  fought  against  them  ;  yea,  he 
drave  out  from  before  him  the  Jebu- 


The  Colton   Tribe.  41 

sites,  the  Hivites,  and  the  Hittites 
(or  subdued  them  under  him),  and 
gave  their  lands  for  a  possession  unto 
your  fathers,  and  unto  you,  as  it  is  this 
day.  It  was  said  of  him  that  he  could 
scent  an  Indian  from  as  far  as  he 
could  shoot  one — and  that  was  at  long 
range.  Turning  to  the  old  records,  I 
find  a- minute  in  these  words  :  "  Capt. 
Thomas  Colton  died  September  30, 
1728."  On  the  6th  of  the  following 
October  Dr.  Williams  preached  a  ser- 
mon in  which  he  gave  Captain  Colton 
a  very  extraordinary  character,  espe- 
cially in  the  Indian  wars,  and  "  as  a 
man  of  eminent  piety."  Reminds  one 
of  the  centurion,  and  of  Havelock ;  a 
soldier,  yet  fearing  God  with  all  his 
house.  His  monument,  in  the  burial- 
ground  near  by,  a  stone  slab,  large, 


42  The  Colton   Tribe. 

strong,  durable,  of  such  fine  grain  and 
texture  as  to  have  withstood,  without 
fleck  or  flaw,  the  storms  and  sunshines 
of  a  century  and  a  half,  testifies  to 
this  same  high  estimate  and  appreci- 
ation. And  then  Captain  George  Col- 
ton,  son  of  Thomas,  worthy  son  of 
worthy  sire.  Thus  we  have  it — these 
military  spangles  and  splendors — 
Captain,  Lieutenant,  Ensign,  Sergeant, 
etc.  And  then  as  to  actual  service— 
the  tug  of  war.  My  grandfather 
Aaron,  with  several  others  of  the 
name,  bore  a  part  in  the  struggle 
for  our  independence.  Sergeant  Eb- 
enezer  Colton,  with  his  company  of 
minute-men,  marched  from  here  as  far 
as  to  Brookfield  for  the  rescue  of  Lex- 
ington, but  was  countermanded  with 
the  intelligence  that  the  peril  was  past. 


The  Cotton   Tribe.  43 

But  the  Colton  name  fills  a  much 
larger  space  in  the  civil  list  and  life 
of  this  grand  old  town.  For  a  hun- 
dred years  one-half,  less  or  more,  of 
the  moderators  of  the  meetings  of 

o 

precinct  and  town  were  Coltons.  How 
readest  thou  ?  "  At  a  meeting  of  the 
inhabitants  of  the  precinct  of  Long 
Meadow,  March  i5,  1/56,  Capt.  Isaac 
Colton  was  appointed  Moderator ; 
Sergt.  George  Colton,  Ensign  ;  Simon 
Colton  and  David  Burt  were  chosen 
Committee,  and  Samuel  Colton,  As- 
sessor"— Coltons  four  to  one.  One 
more  instance  out  of  many  in  the 
record.  At  the  first  meeting  of  Long- 
meadow  as  a  town,  Festus  Colton 
was  chosen  Surveyor  of  Highways, 
and  Luther  Colton,  Fence  Viewer. 
So  were  the  powers  and  prerogatives, 


44  The  Colton   Tribe. 

the  honors  and  emoluments  of  high 
official  station  heaped  upon  the  Col- 
tons  as  the  most  capable  and  worthy 
among  the  people  ! 

If  now  any  one  shall,  in  malicious 
and  mischievous  depreciation,  insinu- 
ate that  the  Coltons  were  all  the  peo- 
ple, and  had  the  honors  of  office  as 
the  college  boy  did  the  valedictory, 
being  himself  the  whole  class,  we  shall 
not  stop  to  answer  that  despiser  of 
dignities,  except  by  the  silence  that 
means  disdain. 

And  then,  coming  down,  or  rather 
up,  to  the  queenly  matron,  ever  vener- 
able and  fair — this  church.  Of  the 
sixteen  persons  joining  to  organize 
this  church  one  hundred  and  sixty- 
seven  years  ago,  six  were  Coltons— 
four  women  and  two  men. 


The  Cotton    Tribe.  45 

I  have  just  now  alluded  to  numbers. 
If  you  carp  at  the  Colton  quality,  we 
can  easily  balance  the  account  by 
quantity.  Those  early  family  records 
— quivers  full.  We  have  looked  at 
them,  and  have  sat  astonished  one 
hour.  Quartermaster  George  is  found 
to  have  had  nine  children  ;  Thomas,  fif- 
teen ;  Ephraim,  of  the  second  genera- 
tion, seventeen  ;  Benjamin,  of  the  third 
generation,  fifteen  ;  and  Benjamin,  of 
the  fourth  generation,  ten.  Prophets 
and  prognosticators  of  omen  good  or 
ill  !  Census  bureau  and  the  mul- 
tiplication table  !  But  take  comfort. 
This  is  a  great  country,  with  terri- 
torial domain  sufficient  for  a  good 
many  Coltons  and  some  few  others 
— a  remnant  at  least.  Glad  to  have 
it  so ;  for  we  seem  to  hear  voices 


46  The  Colton    Tribe. 

saying,  Give  us  room,  that  we  may 
dwell. 

Well,  then,  the  just  claim  of  the 
Coltons  to  precedence  and  preemi- 
nence before  all  the  other  Longmead- 
owers,  here  and  elsewhere  :  i.  We 
were  first  in  the  field,  and  possession 
is  nine  points  of  the  law.  2.  We  are 
fullest  in  numbers — are  the  majority — 
are  the  people — not  to  insist  that  wis- 
dom will  die  with  us. 

And  then  as  to  the  parts  the  Col- 
tons  have  played  and  are  playing  in 
the  field  of  the  world.  True,  we  can- 
not point  to  a  Colton  as  chief  execu- 
tive of  the  nation,  nor  of  this  Com- 
monwealth. No  matter.  The  greed 
and  scramble  for  office,  as  now  seen, 
would  only  soil  our  ermine.  But  we 
stand  well  on  the  roll.  One  or  two 


The   Co  lion   Tribe.  47 

governors  or  alcaldes,  one  or  two  pres- 
idents of  colleges,  several  college  pro- 
fessors, educators  not  a  few,  physicians 
many,  clergymen  a  goodly  number, 
judges  rare,  lawyers  a  sufficient  and 
satisfying  scarcity. 

But,  after  all,  our  grand  distinction 
and  boast  is  of  our  deacons.  DEACON 
COLTON.  Here,  on  this  eminence,  we 
plant  ourselves,  and  boldly  challenge 
all  competition  and  comparison.  We 
are  owners  of  the  deaconship  here  and 
elsewhere, 

"  From  the  centre  all  round  to  the  sea." 

We  are  born  deacons,  as  princes  are 
dukes — to  the  manor  born.  Deacon 
is  our  escutcheon  heraldic,  our  ensign 
armorial.  True,  indeed,  in  this  demo- 
cratic, leveling  age  and  country,  where 


48  The  Cotton   Tribe. 

men  have  such  petty  jealousies  and 
prejudices  against  office-bearing  and 
authority,  it  may  perhaps  be  as  well, 
for  the  sake  of  peace  and  good-will,  to 
allow  the  people  the  privilege  of  a 
voice  and  vote  in  putting  Coltons  into 
this  as  into  other  offices.  But  a  Colton 
is  a  deacon  any  way,  and  every  time, 
vote  or  no  vote.  He  is  deacon  by 
very  virtue  of  his  being  a  Colton.  To 
say  of  a  Colton  that  he  is  a  deacon  is 
only  to  pronounce  him  a  little  more  a 
Colton — an  Hebrew  of  the  Hebrews. 
In  fact,  we  don't  need  the  title ;  we 
are  deacons  without  it,  all  the  same. 
To  think  of  distinguishing  one  Colton 
from  another  Colton  by  saying  that 
one  of  them  is  a  deacon,  would  be 
about  as  lucid  an  identification  as  to 
say  of  one  John  Smith  that  he  is 


The  Cotton   Tribe.  49 

brother  of  James.  Not  to  count  from 
other  branches  of  our  genealogical  tree, 
but  only  from  my  own  especial  bough 
or  twig,  I  once  found  here  thirteen 
deacons  living  contemporaneously,  and 
a  blessing  to  their  time.  My  grand- 
father Aaron  was  deacon ;  two  or 
three  uncles  of  mine  were  deacons ;  a 
half-score  of  cousins  were  deacons  ;  my 
father  was  deacon  ;  three  brothers  of 
mine  were  deacons  ;  and  a  son  of  mine 
is  deacon.  Presumably  this  branch  is 
no  exceptional  one,  but  is  a  fair  sam- 
ple of  the  entire  ancestral  tree. 

I  have  not  claimed,  may  it  please 
you,  that  all  the  good  deacons  in  the 
world  are  Coltons.  I  am  too  modest 
for  that.  I  magnanimously  and  cheer- 
fully concede  that  there  are  good  peo- 
ple, some  few  at  least,  outside  of  the 


5o  The  Colton   Tribe. 

Colton  fold.  I  benevolently  wish 
there  were  more  of  them.  And  here, 
while  I  am  in  this  charitable  and 
hopeful  mood,  and  before  I  lose  it,  I 
may  just  add  and  admit  that,  since  an 
humble  self-estimate  is  a  grace  becom- 
ing in  all,  even  in  the  best,  it  is  con- 
ceivable that  we  Coltons,  all  of  us, 
might  not  do  amiss  to  wish  ourselves 
a  little  better  than  we  are.  There  is 
always  room  at  the  top. 

And  then,  as  to  issues  and  re- 
sults of  intermarriages  and  interfu- 
sions, cross-currents  and  comminglings 
of  blood  and  quality — ours,  with  the 
other  tribes,  the  Elys,  Cooleys,  Blisses, 
Morses,  Morrisses,  Keeps,  Chapins, 
Burts,  Williamses,  Bridgmans,  Kings- 
leys,  Goldthwaites,  Storrses,  Wrights, 
Lawtons,  Brockways,  and  I  know  not 


The  Gallon   Tribe.  5i 

how  many  more  ;  whether  in  all  this 
the  Coltons  have  gained  most,  or 
given  most  of  whatsoever  things  are 
lovely  and  of  good  report,  may  prop- 
erly be  left  to  any  man's  conjecturing. 
It  is  presumable,  however,  that  our 
debtors  they  are. 

From  this  account  it  is  very  plain, 
first,  that  the  Coltons  are  a  modest 
race,  thinking  others  better  than  them- 
selves ;  and,  second,  that  there  are 
among  them  no  humorists.  How 
could  there  be  ?  Being  deacons  all  of 
us,  we  are  too  sedate  and  solemn  to 
relax  into  mirthfulness  and  levity. 
"  Sober  as  a  deacon  !" 

But  I  must  draw  to  a  close. 

AN  AVERAGE  COLTON. 
A   plain  man,   of   medium  stature ; 


52  The  Cotton   Tribe. 

rather  spare  in  flesh  ;  hair  brown,  and 
scant  as  age  advances ;  small  eyes ; 
prominent  nose  and  chin,  denoting 
push  and  persistence  ;  complexion  red, 
white,  and  blue ;  circulation  and  tem- 
perament a  trifle  slow  ;  not  the  quick- 
est in  catching  an  idea,  but  good 
at  keeping  it ;  modest,  as  we  have 
already  said  and  sung,  yet  somewhat 
self-opinionated  and  set — not  to  say 
stubborn ;  second  or  third  cousin, 
maybe,  to  the  Mr.  Will-be- Wills  ;  of 
cheerful  turn,  and  not  addicted  to 
long  face  and  low  murmurs  ;  laughs 
moderately,  but  laughs ;  prefers  to  live 
in  the  south  side  of  the  house ;  is 
sociable  and  neighborly ;  likes  to  do 
obliging  things,  and  does  them  ; 
thinks  comfortably  well  of  himself, 
and  likes  to  have  others  think  the 


The  Cotton   Tribe.  53 

same  of  him  ;  is  affectionate  in  dispo- 
sition ;  loves  his  kindred  and  friends, 
and  is  given  to  hospitality ;  loves  a 
good  story,  and  is  apt  to  be  a  little 
prolix  and  tiresome  in  telling  it ; 
is  pretty  sure  to  be  found  a  singer, 
and  no  marvel  if  a  chorister ;  is 
neither  a  sun  to  blind  your  eyes,  nor  a 
comet  to  be  gazed  at  wonderingly; 
wouldn't  excel  in  metaphorical  pyro- 
technics and  gymnastics ;  is  not  given 
to  minding  high  things,  but  is  reason- 
ably content  to  pursue  a  quiet  and 
even  tenor ;  is  patient  of  toil,  working 
with  his  own  hands  that  which  is 
good ;  is  fair-minded  and  fair-handed 
in  business  dealings ;  has  half  an  eye 
open  for  the  main  chance,  but  doesn't 
clutch  frantically  for  the  everlasting 
more ;  is  neither  a  millionaire  nor  a 


54  The  Colton   Tribe. 

pauper ;  is  not  crowned  king,  nor 
hanged  a  culprit ;  is  seldom  found  in 
a  palace,  and  more  rarely  in  a  prison  ; 
is  a  Democratic  Republican  in  poli- 
tics ;  is  found  among  a  gentler  com- 
monalty, the  middling  interest,  the 
middle  extreme  in  society — the  upper 
middle,  if  you  please ;  is  not  a  saint 
by  natural  birth  and  blood  (no  man 
is),  but  is  blessed  with  such  make 
and  molding,  such  natural  disposition, 
aptitudes,  tendencies,  as  fits  one  (if 
there  be  such  fitting  in  any)  to  receive 
God's  free  grace,  and  be  molded  by 
it  to  diviner  patterns,  even  the  spiritual 
and  heavenly. 

On  the  whole,  a  fair  sort  of  a  man, 
this  average  Colton,  found  respectable, 
faithful,  useful;  serving  God  and  doing 
good  to  men,  and  as  likely  as  most  to 


The  Cotton   Tribe.  55 

be   saved  finally  by  grace  divine  and 
grace  alone. 

We  should  not  boast,  and  we  need 
not  blush,  manward,  over  what  the 
Colton  race  and  name  have  been  and 
done  here  in  this  dear  old  home,  our 
Jerusalem,  Longmeadow,  name  ever 
dear,  and  mother  of  us  all ;  and  have 
done  also  in  the 

"  Land  of  our  fathers,  wheresoe'er  we  roam." 

And  may  I  add  one  word  in  the 
name  of  all  the  tribes  and  families  rep- 
resented here  to-day?  To  the  Long- 
meadow  residents,  people  and  their 
honored  pastor,  having  here  and  now 
their  beautiful  home  and  habitation, 
we  tender,  on  this  memorial  anniver- 
sary, our  hearty  greetings  and  gratula- 
tions.  All  hail  and  farewell !  our  dear 


56  The  Colton   Tribe. 

old  Longmeadow,  venerable  with  age, 
and  crowned  with  beauty  !  Her  chil- 
dren rise  up  and  call  her  blessed.  May 
other  generations  of  men  and  women, 
the  good  and  gentle,  the  true  and 
brave  for  the  right,  rise  up  here  to 
bless  the  ancestral  home,  the  nation, 
the  world.  Our  ancestors  here :  we 
seem  to  see  their  venerable  forms. 
We  tread  reverently  by  the  graves 
where  they  lie  in  glory,  every  one  in 
his  own  house.  We  sit,  to-day,  be- 
neath the  roof,  and  within  the  walls, 
where  they  worshiped  the  ever-living 
and  loving  God,  theirs  and  ours.  We 
walk  beneath  the  elms  that  to  them 
were  a  shadow  from  the  heat.  We 
tread  on  hallowed  ground. 

"  A  charm  from  the  skies  seems  to  hallow  us 
here." 


The  Colton   Tribe.  67 

We  feel  here  an  inspiration  and  up- 
lifting to  good  endeavor  to  do  well 
our  part,  and  so  be  followers  of  them 
who  through  faith  and  patience  inherit 
the  promises. 

"  Our  boast  is  not  that  we  deduce  our  birth 
From  loins  enthroned  and  rulers  of  the  earth  ; 
But  higher  far  our  proud  pretensions  rise, 
The  sons  of  parents  passed  into  the  skies." 


"BRINGETH  FORTH  OUT  OF  HIS 
TREASURES  THINGS  NEW  AND 
OLD." 

ONE  who  has  passed  into  the  off- 
side half  of  his  eightieth  year,  if  he 
has  had  eyes,  and  has  used  them,  must 
have  seen  some  things,  and  some 
more.  1809—1889 — the  sweep  of  the 
century,  and  such  a  century !  Likely 
enough  he  will  be  found  thinking 
and  speaking  of  things  that  used  to 
be,  and  so  contrasting  those  of  once 
with  those  of  now.  And  no  marvel 
if,  pondering  over  the  changes  he 
has  seen,  and  been  a  part  of,  there 
come  over  him  now  and  then  an 
inkling  of  doubt,  whether  he  be  him. 
self  or  somebody  else.  "  The  times 


Things  New  and  Old.  5 9 

have  changed,  and  we've  changed  in 
them." 

As  to  size  of  families  :  From 
quivers  full  in  the  hands  of  the 
mighty,  to  arrows  few  in  the  hands  of 
the  weak.  From  hearing  the  last  gun 
in  the  War  of  1812,  under  the  admin- 
istration of  James  Madison,  to  voting 
for  Benjamin  Harrison,  in  1888. 
From  childhood  to  old  age,  and  re- 
turn :  now  Jamie,  shaking  his  rattle, 
and  now  grandpa,  leaning  on  his  staff. 
From  "playing  horse"  with  boy  and 
towstring,  to  "  fears  by  the  way,"  and 
to  finding,  or  fancying,  that  "  a  horse 
is  a  vain  thing  for  safety."  From  the 
ninepence  silver  piece,  achieved  for 
excellence  in  spelling,  to  diverse 
"  sheepskins,"  college  and  other, 
stowed  away  somewhere  safely,  unless 


60          Things  New  and  Old. 

the  rats,  ambitious  of  fame,  have  car- 
ried off  the  honors.  From  evenings 
worthily  spent  at  home  or  in  spelling- 
school,  to  evenings  worthlessly  thrown 
away  on  burnt-cork  minstrels  and 
comic  operas — to  say  nothing  now  of 
the  nightly  haunts  and  hiding-places 
of  bad  boys,  waxing  worse  and  worse. 
From  wood-pile  to  coal-bin.  From 
tinder-box  to  friction  matches.  From 
tallow  candle  and  pine-knots  to  kero- 
sene and  electric  lights.  From  and- 
irons, and  back-log,  and  blazing  hearth, 
roasting  one  side  of  you,  to  furnaces, 
warming  the  whole  house.  From 
crane,  and  hooks,  and  kettle,  and 
skillet,  fixings  and  furnishings  of  the 
open  fireplace,  to  ranges  and  stoves 
of  a  dozen  patterns,  every  one  of 
which  is  "  better  than  all  the  others 


Things  New  and  Old.          61 

put  together,  sure  as  you  live."  From 
short-cake  in  spider,  crossed  off  with 
fork,  and  turned  up  to  the  fire,  for 
Aunt  'Rusha's  visit  this  whole  after- 
noon, to  Frenchified  bills  of  fare, 
lading  and  .loading,  for  clubs,  clans, 
and  cliques,  various,  and  too  many. 
From  barreled  apple-sauce,  hard-frozen 
in  attic  in  winter,  to  Barr's  ice-creams, 
all  the  year  round.  From  home-living 
and  "  hamely  fare,"  to  Delmonico's. 
From  homespun  and  "  hodden-gray 
and  a'  that,"  to  merinos,  superfines, 
and  soft  clothing  from  Great  Britain 
and  Hail  Columbia.  From  handicraft, 
tax  and  strain  of  human  muscle,  to 
enginery  and  horse-power  by  water 
and  steam — perhaps  by  electricity,  the 
other  motors  being  too  weak  and  slow. 
From  musical  scythe  and  whetstone, 


62  Things  New  and  Old. 

to  ding  and  clatter  of  mowing-ma- 
chines. From  plain  and  sensible  hand- 
rake,  to  land  lobster,  or  something  re- 
sembling it,  and  named  horse-rake, 
with  its  pranks  of  kick-up  and  touch- 
down. From  spinning-wheel  and  dis- 
taff, presided  over  by  grandmother,  in 
her  might,  majesty,  and  dominion, 
to  power-looms  and  spinning-jennies, 
tended  by  children  who  ought  to  be  at 
school.  From  splitting  oven-wood  for 
mother,  and  receiving  the  promised 
"turn-over"  in  sumptuous  payment 
therefor,  to  having  seen  brick  ovens 
gone  far  past  into  innocuous  desue- 
tude. From  that  nondescript,  ineffable 
piece  of  humanity,  a  boy  of  sixteen, 
with  swarms  of  whims  and  fancies 
playing  round  his  head,  to  an  octoge- 
narian, sobered,  solidified,  settled  into 


Things  New  and  Old.  63 

facts  and  full  persuasions,  which  no 
battering-ram  can  shake.  From  mild- 
mannered  toot-toot  of  tin  horn,  an- 
nouncing to  all  the  world  and  the  rest 
of  us  the  coming  in  of  mail  coach  once 
a  day,  to  screech  and  shriek  of  car 
whistle  nearly  all  the  time.  From 
neck-breaking,  all-night  jouncing  in 
stage  coach  over  the  sham  and  sem- 
blance of  highways,  to  palace  and 
sleeping-car  on  smooth  and  level  iron 
paths.  From  journeying  diligently  six 
days  from  present  to  native  home,  to 
compassing  the  same  distance  in  one 
night — keeping  pace  the  while  with 
the  growth  of  Jonah's  gourd,  and 
sleeping  all  the  way.  From  adze  and 
broad-axe,  hewing  timbers,  ushering  in- 
an  epoch,  a  half-day  house-raising — 
to  say  nothing  of  doughnut  and  demi- 


64  Things  New  and  Old. 

John — to  circular  saws  and  scantling, 
beams  and  posts,  that  set  the  winds 
a-snickering,  and  bid  the  bibulous,  if 
any,  stay  at  home  and  be  dry.  From 
training-days  and  musters — mimicry  of 
war,  but  surely  bound  to  save  the 
country — to  the  country  saved  in  and 
through  the  actual  and  terrible  strife, 
and  that  too  by  minute-men  and  volun- 
teers. 

From  city  and  country  stores  selling 
liquors  to  young  and  old,  with  other 
goods  reputably,  to  saloons,  a  nui- 
sance, execrated,  and  going  into  perdi- 
tion. From  the  monarchy  of  blood- 
letting and  calomel  for  all  aches  and 
ailments,  to  the  democracy  of  the 
"pathies,"  ministered  by  wise  men, 
and  by  men  otherwise.  From  the 
small  four-page  weekly,  coming  from 


Things  New  and  Old.          65 

far,  to  the  large  eight-page  dailies, 
brought  to  your  door  morning  and 
evening,  and  taxing  too  heavily  your 
time  and  reading.  From  reading 
London  news  fifty  days  old,  to  read- 
ing at  our  breakfast-table  this  morn- 
ing, this  morning's  doings  in  Parlia- 
ment in  that  city.  From  high  pulpits, 
beetling  cliffs,  to  platform  level,  allow- 
ing preacher  a  hand-to-hand  grapple 
with  hearer  in  the  good  fight  of  faith. 
(Sounding-boards  had  not  ventured 
into  the  high  latitudes  of  us  and  the 
North  Star.)  From  the  high-backed, 
and  doored,  square  pews  for  hearers, 
facing  three  of  the  four  winds,  to  low 
and  open  slips  facing  both  minister 
and  music,  and  saying  to  the  stranger, 
"Come,  and  welcome."  From  shy- 
piping  bass  viol,  if  tolerated,  to  high- 

5 


66  Things  New  and  Old. 

sounding  organ,  rejoiced  in.  (Fiddle, 
if  introduced,  would  have  raised  a  cir- 
cus.) From  old  Mear,  Windham,  All 
Saints,  St.  Martins,  and  Dundee,  sub- 
stantial and  satisfying  melodies,  to 
swarming  music-books,  with  tunes,  so- 
called,  some  of  which  are  good,  some 
very  good,  and  some  altogether  lighter 
than  vanity.  From  the  grand  fore- 
fathers and  foremothers,  with  their 
stanch  and  vertebrate  beliefs  and  con- 
victions, to — I  will  not  say  magpies, 
standing  around,  and  chattering  at 
whom  and  what  they  neither  attain  to 
nor  comprehend.  Let  us  rather  think 
and  say  with  the  incomparable  Lin- 
coln, ''With  charity  for  all,  with  mal- 
ice toward  none."  And  still,  no  duty 
binds  or  bids  us  shut  our  eyes  and 
ears  to  the  facts  in  this  matter.  "  For 


Things  New  and  Old.  67 

as  concerning  this  sect,  we  know  that 
everywhere  it  is  spoken  against." 

Any  amount  of  misconception  and 
misrepresentation.  Some  are  telling 
us  that  people,  clerical  and  lay,  of  our 
olden  time,  were  fed  on  Calvinism 
and  catechism,  bitter  herbs  and  un- 
leavened bread,  and  were  thereby  made 
sour,  gloomy,  unhappy.  The  allega- 
tion is  fictitious  and  false.  Read,  on 
this  point,  "  Sprague's  Annals,"  and 
stand  corrected.  With  them,  indeed, 
were  the  catechism  and  the  Puritan 
theology,  which  had  stood,  and  still 
stands,  the  test  of  time  and  trial — doc- 
trines, not  the  travesty  and  caricature 
of  them,  quite  too  often  charged  to 
their  account.  And  men  didn't  die  of 
the  catechism.  The  writer  of  these 
lines  was  instructed  in  that  old  symbol, 


68  Things  New  and  Old. 

and,  marvel  to  say,  is  alive  still,  not- 
withstanding. The  people  of  West- 
hamptoh  are  said  to  have  been 
"  brought  up  on  the  catechism." 
Thank  you.  I  wish  there  were  more 
Westhamptons — the  clear  heads  and 
bright  hearts,  the  Bible-reading,  the 
Sabbath-keeping,  the  society  and  so- 
cial life,  the  intelligence  and  thrift, 
and  whatsoever  things  are  honest,  and 
true,  and  of  good  report.  It  is  in  no 
spirit  of  bitterness  that  a  passing  refer- 
ence is  here  made  to  two  or  three 
things,  the  heaviest  and  hardest,  still 
charged  against  the  beliefs  of  the  evan- 
gelical orthodox  in  time  past  and  pres- 
ent ;  men  of  the  present  punished  for 
Adam's  sin  ;  glorified  saints  in  ecsta- 
sies over  the  suffering  of  the  lost ; 
willingness  to  be  a  castaway  a  prime 


Things  New  and  Old.          69 

evidence  of  piety  ;  "  hell  paved  with  " 
—but  I  stay  my  hand.  Now,  as  to 
these  things  so  persistently  pressed 
against  the  memory  of  those  whom  we 
should  revere :  If  one  who  was  there 
and  is  here,  one  who  sat  for  years  un- 
der the  teachings  of  Leonard  Woods, 
Moses  Stuart,  and  Edwards  A.  Park,  of 
Andover ;  one  who  heard  the  preach- 
ing of  Revs.  Nettleton,  Finney,  and 
Burchard  ;  and  has  listened  to  thirty 
and  more  of  our  college  presidents,  to 
perhaps  as  many  theological  profes- 
sors, and  to  a  hundred,  less  or  more, 
of  our  most  noted  preachers,  masters 
in  our  Israel,  from  Beersheba  even 
unto  Dan,  during  a  long  day  of  our 
short  life — if  such  an  one,  speaking  for 
himself  only,  of  what,  in  these  matters, 
he  has  or  has  not  seen  and  heard,  may 


70  Things  New  and  Old. 

be  allowed  to  give  and  leave  his  per- 
sonal testimony,  then  this  deponent 
saith  :  that  it  has  never  once  fallen  to 
him  to  hear,  from  one  of  the  above- 
named  men,  one  line  or  syllable  in 
inculcation  or  endorsement  of  one  of 
the  hard  things  referred  to  above. 
Bible  doctrines,  may  it  please  your 
honors,  not  the  falsehoods  and  fictions 
in  place  of  them,  or  connected  with 
them.  There  shall  be  here  no  plea 
for  aught  that  was  wrong  or  weak  in 
what  the  fathers  held  and  taught. 
They  were  not  perfect.  None  are. 
I  am  afraid  they  are  but  poorly  un- 
derstood. A  style  of  piety  sedate, 
but  not  gloomy ;  a  little  rugged,  but 
kindly ;  not  so  fine  and  nice,  but  of 
firm  texture  and  enduring  ;  not  confi- 
dent and  assertive,  yet  intelligent, 


Things  New  and  Old.          71 

rooted  in  convictions,  and  ready  always 
to  render  a  reason  ;  a  piety  built  up  on 
both  Testaments,  the  Old  and  the 
New ;  a  piety  to  which  those  grand 
words,  Law  and  Righteousness,  meant 
something ;  a  piety  drawing  strength 
and  sweetness  from  the  One  Hundred 
and  Nineteenth  Psalm,  and  from  John's 
First  Epistle  ;  a  piety  thankfully  testi- 
fying with  the  Psalmist,  "  Thy  statutes 
have  been  my  songs  in  the  house  of 
my  pilgrimage." 

Does  a  voice  come,  saying,  These 
terrible  things  were  held  and  taught 
in  this  or  that  century  back  of  our 
present  ?  Oh  !  sirs,  it  hadn't  occurred 
to  us  as  a  thing  of  practical  moment 
to  us  to  go  back  and  give  answer  for 
all  the  wrongs  of  all  time.  We  were 
speaking  of  the  present  century  and 


72  Things  New  and  Old. 

the  men  in  it ;  and  all  we  claim  for 
them  is  that  they  were  good  and  noble 
for  their  time  and  the  light  given 
them.  It  is  not  given  to  one  age  to 
have  the  wisdom  of  all  the  ages.  We 
have  not  all  of  us  lived  forever;  and 
it  is  just  possible  that  some  of  us  to- 
day are  still  a  little  short  of  perfection 
absolute.  Let  us  try  to  be  modest. 

Easy  enough  to  sit  back  in  our  soft 
chairs,  and  be  self-complacent,  and 
wish  our  fathers  had  been  wiser.  Not 
so  easy  to  be  ourselves  climbing 
"Hills  Difficulty."  Most  of  us  find 
it  about  as  much  as  we  can  do  to 
keep  ourselves  somewhere.  If  our 
fathers  came  short,  let  us  out-do  them 
in  all  goodness,  and  righteousness, 
and  truth,  if  we  can.  Likely  enough 
we  can,  if  we  will.  Why  this  interest 


Things  New  and  Old.  73 

so  great  in  the  old-time  beliefs  and 
teachings  ?  Are  we  better  than  the 
fathers?  If  we  are,  let  us  not  boast, 
but  be  thankful.  If  we  are  not,  let 
us  strive  for  the  mastery.  Till  we 
are,  it  is  hardly  a  handsome  thing  in 
us  to  be  throwing  stones.  If  we 
would  be  better,  the  law  is  open,  and 
there  are  deputies.  There  is  always 
room  at  the  top. 

I  have  spoken  of  progress  in  ma- 
terial things.  If  now  one  ask :  Has 
there  been  a  like  progress  in  religious 
things  ?  Have  we  gone  on  with 
equal  step  from  old  to  new  in  moral 
and  spiritual  wisdom  and  goodness  ? 
Have  we  left  the  fathers  lagging  and 
late  in  the  greater  concerns  of  man  ? 
To  questions  of  this  sort  our  answer 
is,  Yes  and  No  ;  and  each  in  its  sev- 


74  Things  New  and  Old. 

eral  respects.  No,  as  to  Bible,  the 
one  Book,  and  lived  upon  ;  as  to  the 
law-work  and  breaking  up  of  the  fal- 
low ground  in  conviction  of  sin  and 
conversion  to  Christ ;  as  to  Sabbath 
observance  and  sanctuary  attendance ; 
as  to  nurture  of  the  religious  affec- 
tions, the  inward,  spiritual  life  by  medi- 
tation and  prayer ;  as  to  keeping  the 
home  and  heart  with  all  diligence ;  as 
to  reverence  for  sacred  things ;  as  to 
contentment  with  slow  and  honest 
gains ;  as  to  careful  avoidance  of 
worldly  amusements,  frivolities,  plays, 
and  pastimes  ;  -as  to  consistency,  well 
looked  to,  between  our  manner  of  liv- 
ing and  our  prayer  "  that  we  may 
hereafter  lead  a  godly,  righteous,  and 
sober  life."  In  these  and  the  like 
things,  No. 


Things  New  and  Old. 


And  now  the  Yes  :  Larger  windows 
to  let  in  sunshine  ;  better  under- 
standing and  acceptance  of  the  grand 
rule,  "  In  essentials,  unity  ;  in  unessen- 
tials,  liberty  ;  in  all  things,  charity  ;  "  a 
happier  blending  and  proportioning  of 
law  and  gospel  in  preaching,  appeal- 
ing not  less  perhaps  to  fear  of  God's 
wrath,  but  more  to  his  love  in  Jesus  as 
preeminently  the  constraining  motive 
to  repentance  and  holy  living  ;  not 
now  a  reserve  standing  on  cold  con- 
ventional proprieties,  but,  instead,  a 
warmth  and  glow  of  manner,  showing 
the  preacher  affectionately  desirous  of 
you,  and  bent  on  plucking  you  as  a 
brand  ;  a  larger  union  and  fellowship 
among  Christians  of  different  names  ; 
care  and  cultivation  of  those  little 
courtesies,  civilities,  amenities,  throw- 


76  Things  New  and  Old. 

ing  a  charm  over  the  social  life  ;  insti- 
tutions founded  and  endowed  liberally 
for  relief  of  all  manner  of  misfortune 
and  want ;  the  Sisters  of  Charity  going 
everywhere,  carrying  gifts  and  heal- 
ing ;  brotherhood  and  sympathy,  lend- 
ing solace  and  succor  to  fellow-men  in 
every  clime,  on  every  shore ;  grand 
organizations  for  mission  work  and 
moral  reform  ;  slavery,  so  recently  our 
curse  and  reproach,  now  wiped  out,  as 
one  wipeth  a  dish,  and  turneth  it  up- 
side down  ;  the  wondrous  uprising 
against  that  devouring  monster,  Intem- 
perance, and  all  his  myriad  aids  and 
abettors ;  uplifting  forces  all  around 
us,  intended  and  adapted  to  make  this 
world  brighter,  happier,  better — a 
paradise  regained. 

Yes  and  No,  then.     No,  as  to  depth; 


Things  New  and  Old.          77 

Yes,  as  to  breadth.  No,  as  to  stand- 
ing firmly  on  the  feet ;  Yes,  as  to 
reaching  out  long  arms.  No,  as  to 
rich  soil  prepared ;  Yes,  as  to  the 
flowers  appearing — the  roses  of 
Sharon  and  the  lilies  of  the  valley. 
And  so  we  say  :  On  the  whole,  Yes, 
and  with  gladsome  emphasis.  Strange 
if  it  were  not  so,  with  the  world's  his- 
tory for  our  instruction,  and  the  world's 
hope  for  our  inspiration  ;  the  night  far 
spent ;  the  day-star  rising. 

"  Watchman  !  does  its  beauteous  ray 
Aught  of  joy  or  hope  foretell  ? — 
Traveller  !  yes  ;  it  brings  the  day — 
Promised  day  of  Israel." 

The  old  and  past,  whatever  it  was 
made  or  was,  is  gone  from  us.  The 
new  and  now  is  ours — is  open  door 


78  Things  New  and  Old. 

and    opportunity,    the    grandest    ever 
known.      Let  us,  then,  in  joyful  trust, 
and  loving  loyalty,    commit  ourselves 
to  Him,  our  gracious  Lord,   in  whom 
are  all  our  springs — 

"  Our  high  endeavor,  and  our  glad  success, 
Our  strength  to  suffer,  and  our  will  to  serve." 

The  age  we  live  in,  like  the  natural 
world  around  us,  is  full  of  wonders. 
Let  us  be  wakeful,  observant,  reflec- 
tive, reverent,  not  disobedient  unto  the 
heavenly  vision,  ready  unto  all  good 
works.  Let  us  not  sleep  as  do  others. 
Let  us  not  be  dull  of  seeing. 

"  Earth's  crammed  with  Heaven, 
And  every  common  bush  afire  with  God  ; 
But  only  he  who  sees  takes  off  his  shoes  : 
The  rest  sit  round  it,  and  pluck  blackberries." 

EASTHAMPTON,  MARCH  28,  1889. 


BRIEF  TOUCHES  CONCERNING  SOME 
OF  THE  MINISTERS  OF  THE  HAMP- 
SHIRE, MASS.,  ASSOCIATION  FIFTY 
YEARS  AGO— OR  NEARLY. 

HEMAN  HUMPHREY,  D.D.,  PRESIDENT 
OF  AMHERST  COLLEGE, 

WAS  passing  his  grand  climacteric. 
Had  parted  with  his  strongest  years, 
yet  retained  not  a  little  of  his  best 
self.  Of  medium  stature.  Slightly 
inclining  to  stoop.  Meek  bearing. 
Head  carried  a  little  to  his  left  side. 
Eyes  toward  the  ground  in  walking. 
Of  pleasant  manners.  Of  a  quiet  "hu- 
mor. Fatherly,  like  President  Day,  of 
Yale  :  par  nobile  fratrum :  they  two, 
with  President  Griffin,  of  Williams, 
forming  a  triumvirate — perhaps  just 

79 


8o       The  Hampshire  Ministers. 

the  style  of  men  for  that  special  time 
and  duty.  Dead  line  not  yet  drawn 
at  forty.  "  I  said  Days  should  speak." 
Sound  mind.  Strong  common  sense. 
An  excellent  counselor.  A  sound  and 
instructive  preacher.  Didn't  "  fire  up," 
as  do  some,  though  seen  at  times  un- 
der a  power  of  feeling  which,  but  for 
result  of  conventionality  and  early 
habit,  would  likely  have  come  out  in 
eloquence  impassioned  and  grand. 
Early  training  under  the  old,  but  wan- 
ing, dispensation  and  glory  of  pow- 
dered hair  and  knee-buckles  ;  and  so, 
dignity,  restraint,  reserve,  repression. 
Break  those  bands  in  sunder,  beloved, 
and  cast  away  those  cords  from  you. 
"  Please  be  seated,"  always  his  word  of 
greeting,  on  your  entering  his  room. 
Gave  me  a  cordial  welcome  on  my 


The  Hampshire  Ministers.       81 

coming  to  Amherst.  Was  never  want- 
ing to  me.  Was  moderator  of  council, 
and  gave  the  address  to  the  people 
at  my  ordination.  Noble  family  of 
children.  Humphrey — Porter;  good 
blood  and  stock — a  genuine  nobility. 
May  other  such  arise  ! 

REV.    NATHAN    PERKINS,   OF    SECOND 
CHURCH,    AMHERST. 

Son  of  a  minister,  Dr.  Nathan  Per- 
kins, of  West  Hartford,  Conn.,  whom 
I  remember  to  have  seen  and  heard  in 
my  college  days.  Stately  and  vener- 
able form,  -a  little  bent.  Bland,  open 
face,  and  clean  shaven.  Skin  soft  and 
smooth  as  an  infant's.  Hair  of  light 
color,  scant,  and  well  combed.  Scru- 
pulously neat  in  person  and  dress.  Of 
pleasant  manners.  Always  cheerful. 


82        The  Hampshire  Ministers. 

Lived  in  the  south  side  of  the  house. 
Never  saw  a  frown  or  wrinkle  on  him. 
A  fair  preacher.  Made  for  me  the 
ordaining  prayer.  Was  every  way  a 
pastor  to  his  flock.  Interested  him- 
self, and  was  helpful  to  them,  in  all 
their  affairs.  Was  "  Father  Perkins  " 
before  he  was  fifty ;  and,  when  taken 
up  suddenly  at  the  age  of  sixty-two,  a 
sorrowing  people  said :  "  My  father, 
my  father,  the  chariots  of  Israel,  and 
the  horsemen  thereof." 

If  "  father "  and  sixty-two  be  old, 
what  is  eighty  ?  I  don't  know,  and 
you  needn't  tell  me. 

OF    REVS.    REID,    OF    BELCHERTOWN, 
AND  DANFORTH,  OF  HADLEY, 

I  saw  but  little.  The  former,  tall 
and  of  dark  complexion,  may  have 


The  Hampshire  Ministers.      83 

been  of  silent  and  moodish  turn. 
Gave  charge  to  pastor.  Mr.  Dan- 
forth,  of  heavier  mold,  physically — 
perhaps  not  stronger  of  the  two,  men- 
tally. Made  the  introductory  prayer. 
Was  blessed  with  a  comfortable  meas- 
ure of  simplicity  and  unwisdom  :  be- 
gan to  build  a  house  for  a  settled 
home,  and  the  people  began  to  talk 
about  another  minister.  Charles  Lamb 
says,  that  "  a  man  who  has  not  a  drachm 
of  folly  in  his  mixture,  has  pounds  of 
much  worse  matter  in  his  composition." 

REV.  GEORGE  COOKE,  OF  NORTH 
AMHERST, 

My  near  neighbor  and  good  brother. 
Of  notably  fine  physique.  A  hand- 
some man.  Those  locks,  pendent  from 
his  brow,  were  proud  of  him,  perhaps 


84        The  Hampshire  Ministers. 

he  of  them,  though  he  was  not  given 
to  childish  vanity.  A  sterling  mind — 
powers  above  the  common  mark. 
Sound  judgment.  You  might  "  lean 
hard "  on  the  advice  he  gave  you  in 
practical  affairs.  Of  wide  intelligence 
—well  posted  in  goings-on  in  church 
and  state.  A  manifoldness  and  many- 
sidedness.  Could  have  filled  well  any 
one  of  a  half-dozen  of  our  callings  in 
life.  Would  have  made  an  admirable 
teacher — it  was  in  his  blood  and  tribe. 
Impressed  you  as  one  knowing  more 
about  your  business  than  you  did. 
Handy  and  handsome,  wasn't  it,  to 
have  for  our  minister  a  man  so  broad- 
minded,  so  excellent  in  counsel  in  our 
own  every-day  concerns?  Here  was 
half  his  hold  on  his  people.  A  little 
allowable  pride — and  don't  blame  them 


The  Hampshire  Ministers.      85 

for  it.  Was  wiser  and  greater  for 
others  than  for  himself.  Could  write 
an  admirable  essay  for  Association. 
Did  so,  once  and  again.  Sermon  writ- 
ing was  irksome  to  him.  Said  he 
couldn't,  till  pressed  and  pushed  to  it 
for  to-morrow's  service.  I  have  found 
him  at  tea-time  on  a  Saturday  P.M. 
with  preparation  of  less  than  half  of 
the  first  sermon  of  the  two.  His  exe- 
cution was  marvelously  rapid.  When, 
at  the  late  exigent  hour,  he  did  take 
his  pen,  there  was  work  indeed.  No 
flutter,  no  hysteric  energy,  but  a  calm 
and  sustained  bent  and  concentration 
of  strong  powers,  well  in  hand.  Bet- 
ter, I  think,  could  it  have  been  so  with 
him,  better  for  both  sermon  and  self, 
the  patient  quill-driving  through  earlier 
and  longer  hours.  We  are  differently 


86        The  Hampshire  Ministers. 

made,  I  know ;  but  there  is  a  best  way 
for  "the  generality  of  mankind  in  gen- 
eral." I  never  felt  reconciled  to  his 
leaving  his  people  and  the  ministry, 
when  so  loved  and  so  strong.  I  sadly 
missed  him  from  his  place.  I  once 
sought  him  out  at  the  Custom  House 
in  Boston.  I  could  not  bring  myself 
to  feel  that  a  clerkship  there  was  the 
place  for  one  of  his  talents  and  train- 
ing. I  have  known  but  little  of  his 
movements  in  these  later  years.  Shad- 
ows fell  upon  him ;  he  was  afflicted 
very  much.  He  held  and  filled  a  place 
of  honor — the  presidency  of  a  college, 
— for  a  time,  and  was  variously  useful. 
I  am  afraid  his  later  years  had  little  of 
sunshine.  I  am  hoping  and  expecting 
to  learn  that  his  end  was  fulness  of 
peace  and  joy. 


The  Hampshire  Ministers.      87 

REV.  JOHN  MITCHELL,  OF  THE  ED- 
WARDS CHURCH,  IN  NORTHAMPTON. 
The  Association's  umpire  on  all 
questions  of  ecclesiastical  polity  and 
usage.  A  scholarly  man.  A  thinker. 
A  calm  man — strength  in  sitting  still. 
Did  a  thing  thoroughly,  or  let  it  alone. 
Words  few,  and  directly  to  the  point. 
His  contributions  of  essay  or  criticism 
always  highly  valued,  and  felt  to  be 
too  seldom.  You  would  shrink  from 
reading  a  shallow  and  slipshod  paper 
in  his  presence.  He  would  kill  you  if 
you  did — would  do  it  with  infinite  gen- 
tleness and  goodness,  but  would  do 
it — making  an  end  of  it  and  you. 
Didn't  laugh,  but  smiled.  Bland,  pale 
face,  mirroring  the  whole  man.  The 
Edwards  Church  have  had  grand  men. 
A  highly  favored  people ;  but  among 


88        The  Hampshire  Ministers. 

all  their  ministers  (and  I  have  known 
them  all),  perhaps  by  no  one  better 
than  by  him  have  they  been  nourished 
up  in  the  words  of  faith  and  good  doc- 
trine. A  more  vigorous,  forceful  man- 
ner in  the  pulpit  might  have  been  well, 
but  the  richness  of  the  matter  went 
far  to  content  those  with  whom  the 
substance  is  more  than  the  sound. 
That  pallid  face  didn't  bespeak  robust 
health,  or  possibility  of  vehemence 
anywhere.  The  shaking  would  have 
torn  him. 

REV.    JOSEPH    D.    CONDIT,  OF    SOUTH 
HADLEY. 

Of  tall  and  slender  frame ;  erect 
and  straight,  but  no  strain  nor  stiff- 
ness. Thin,  pale  face.  Not  strong  in 
health.  Graceful,  not  gracious,  in  his 


The  Hampshire  Ministers,      89 

manners.  A  chastened  ease  and  affa- 
bleness.  No  hint  of  the  courtly  or  the 
patronizing.  A  born  gentleman,  in 
the  best  sense  of  that  term.  The  to 
propon  was  in  every  nerve  and  vein  of 
him.  A  sweet  saintliness,  a  singular 
delicacy  and  refinement,  shrinking 
from  touch  or  sight  of  anything  gross 
or  rude.  A  coarse  jest  or  word  would 
have  hurt  him  like  a  blow.  You 
wouldn't  speak  that  word  to  him.  It 
was  "  awful  goodness,"  without  the 
awfulness.  "  A  bishop  blameless  ;  " 
and,  in  saying  it,  you  meant  singu- 
larity and  emphasis.  He  was  human. 
We  all  are.  But  most  of  us  are  very 
human.  Providential  indeed — so  we 
all  said — that  one  so  refined,  so  pure, 
so  saintly,  was  sent  to  South  Hadley, 
a  plastic  power  there,  so  helping  to 


90        The  Hampshire  Ministers. 

mold  the  Mount  Holyoke  Female 
Seminary  from  its  beginnings  to  the 
grace  and  goodness  for  which  we  give 
it  all  praise. 

REV.     CHARLES     WILEY,     OF     FIRST 
CHURCH,    NORTHAMPTON. 

Of  medium  stature.  Of  agreeable 
manners,  perhaps  a  little  more  spruce 
and  nice  in  his  ways  than  most.  Did 
and  said  things  aesthetically.  Didn't 
thrust  his  hand  toward  you  at  greet- 
ing, but  presented  it  gingerly.  Didn't 
say  bluntly,  "  How  are  you,  Billings  ?" 
but  said  blandly,  "  How  do  you  do, 
sir?"  Of  fine  mind,  and  well  trained 
and  stored.  Had  his  elect  model  of 
style  in  Robert  Hall,  and  followed 
him  —  afar  off,  of  course  —  but  as 
closely,  perhaps,  as  is  well  for  the  best 


The  Hampshire  Ministers.      91 

effects.  That  murmur  and  musical 
flow,  the  stately  and  sustained  move- 
ment, and  the  well-rounded  periods — 
not  healthful  to  common  mortals. 
High,  moreover,  and  they  cannot  at- 
tain unto  it.  Most  of  us  are  not 
giants,  and  Saul's  armor  is  for  giants. 
Better  for  our  best  fighting,  as  fight- 
ing is  nowadays,  better  the  sling  and 
five  stones  from  the  brook — stones 
smooth,  or  not  so  smooth.  But  not  to 
judge  another  in  a  matter  of  this  sort. 
Every  man  in  his  own  order.  Brother 
Wiley  was  an  excellent  preacher. 
Ranked  high  as  a  sermonizer.  Was 
laborious  in  sermon  writing. 

REV.    GEORGE    A.     OVIATT,    OF    THE 
BRAINERD  CHURCH,  BELCHERTOWN. 
Of  slight,  fragile  mould,  pliant,  yet 


92        7^ke  Hampshire  Ministers. 

resilient ;  one  of  those  tender  plants 
that  bend  under  the  wind,  and  lift  them- 
selves when  the  pressure  is  off.  Of 
fair  abilities ;  and  the  five  talents,  put 
to  usury,  gained  other  five  talents  be- 
sides them.  Came  direct  from  Yale 
Theological  Seminary  to  Brainerd 
Church  as  their  first  pastor.  Was 
happy  in  his  relations  here,  and  pros- 
pered in  his  work.  Perhaps  never 
great,  as  some  men  count  greatness, 
but  good,  all  through  and  always. 
Kind,  gentle,  tender-hearted,  sympa- 
thetic, a  Barnabas,  masterful  and  a 
charmer  wherever  sorrow  was.  A 
clinging  vine  that  crept  up  around 
thousands  of  hearts,  and  whose  ten- 
drils, once  fixed,  didn't  lose  their  hold. 
Served  the  Master  worthily  in  six 
churches  in  turn,  until,  wearied  by  his 


The  Hampshire  Ministers.      93 

toils,  not  weary  of  them,  the  springs 
of  life  worn  out,  he  passed  peacefully, 
not  long  ago,  to  his  home  and  rest  in 
heaven. 

One  especial  thing  should  be  told 
for  a  memorial  of  this  brother.  There 
had  been  bitter  strifes  in  the  Old 
First  Church  in  Belchertown.  A  por- 
tion of  the  members  left,  and  were  or- 
ganized to  be  a  new  Congregational 
church,  the  Brainerd,  to  which  young 
Oviatt  was  called.  Thus  two  churches, 
of  the  same  order,  side  by  side,  after 
and  because  of  such  alienation  and  di- 
vision. Time  passes,  and  the  Old 
Church  is  found  dismissing  their  own 
pastor,  and  inviting  the  Brainerd 
Church  to  return  home,  and  bring  their 
pastor  with  them,  to  be  the  shepherd 
of  the  reunited  flock.  'Twas  done ; 


94        The  Hampshire  Ministers. 

and  of  that  flock,  so  drawn  together, 
Brother  Oviatt  was  for  years  the  sole 
pastor,  happy  in  his  work,  success- 
ful, beloved,  cherished.  Rare  the  in- 
stance ;  and  rare  in  the  brother  that 
combination  of  qualities,  wisdom,  pru- 
dence, worth,  and  work,  which  could 
make  the  instance  possible  and  actual. 
Vale,  vale,  Oviatt,  my  Yale  classmate 
and  brother  beloved. 

REV.  MORRIS    E.  WHITE,    OF   SOUTH- 
AMPTON. 

Of  massive,  solid  mold,  physically"; 
shoulders  as  if  to  bear  up  an  Atlas. 
Could  quickly  have  floored  the  stout- 
est of  us  at  wrestling.  Was  an  able 
preacher,  and  for  years  was  greatly 
favored  in  his  work.  Mighty  shakings 
in  Southampton,  and  rich  ingather- 


The  Hampshire  Ministers.       95 

ings.  But  by  and  by  a  frost  touched 
him,  a  killing  frost,  and  nipped  his 
root,  and  then  he  fell.  His  beloved 
wife  was  snatched  from  him  by  the  fell 
destroyer.  Woman  of  rare  beauty 
and  loveliness  and  culture.  He  found 
her  in  Andover,  the  favorite  teacher 
in  Abbot  Female  Academy.  He  had 
the  sense  and  sentiment  to  know  her 
worth.  Her  removal  was  to  him  a 
stunning  and  bewildering  stroke,  which 
quite  unmanned  him.  Months  after  the 
storm  broke  upon  him,  calling  at  my 
house  in  Amherst,  and  seeing  my  wife, 
and  told  that  she  was  once  a  pupil  of 
his  wife,  in  Andover,  he  burst  into 
tears,  and  wept  for  an  hour  like  a 
child.  Some  here  present  can  recall 
the  sad  story.  A  pulpit  charge  still 
upon  him,  and  a  people  accustomed  to 


96        The  Hampshire  Ministers. 

look  for  good  preaching ;  Sunday  will 
come,  and  the  sermons  must.  Pressed 
as  under  a  mountain  weight ;  his  home 
desolated ;  nerves  unstrung ;  the  very 
air  of  his  study  freighted  with  gloom  ; 
sense  of  utter  impotence  and  impos- 
sibility to  so  much  as  think  anything 
as  of  himself ;  and  now  a  drop  from 
the  cup,  a  convenient  extract  from 
another's  pen,  and  next  time,  likety, 
the  same,  and  a  little  more,  just  to 
ease  the  burden  this  once ;  and  with  no 
thought,  or  little  thought,  of  the  issue 
that  will  come,  and  will  not  tarry.  The 
inevitable  did  come ;  the  complaint, 
the  council,  the  trial,  the  dismission, 
the  demission  from  the  sacred  office. 
Years  have  since  passed.  I  make  no 
plea  for  the  things  charged — the  cup 
or  the  quotation.  I  make  no  question 


The  Hampshire  Ministers.      97 

that  the  council  did  wisely  and  rightly. 
And  yet,  to-day,  in  recalling  to  mind 
the  scenes  and  the  man,  I  think,  and 
care  to  think,  of  little  else  but  of  the 
blow  that  crushed  him  to  the  earth. 
Chanty  never  faileth.  Gently,  my 
friends,  gently  toward  a  reed,  not 
shaken  only,  not  bruised  only,  but 
broken  in  the  midst. 

REV.   HENRY  NEIL,  OF  HATFIELD. 

Of  about  medium  stature.  Of  pe- 
culiar build.  Shoulders  drawn  up 
around  his  neck  as  it  had  been  a 
blanket  shawl.  A  great  favorite  in 
scenes  of  college  life.  Captured  and 
carried  off  one  of  President  Humph- 
rey's daughters — a  prize  indeed.  I 
was  present  at  the  nuptials.  Lively  as 
a  cricket.  Something  of  the  French- 


98        The  Hampshire  Ministers. 

man  in  looks  and  ways.  Genial  and 
jovial  among  familiars,  bubbling  up 
and  brimming  over  with  good  humor. 
A  fine  mind,  and  finely  furnished.  A 
quick  and  keen  discernment.  Ready 
of  speech.  Great  in  an  off-hand  criti- 
cism on  sermon  or  essay ;  beginning 
and  ending  his  apt  remarks,  while 
most  of  us  were  getting  ourselves  to- 
gether. An  able  and  instructive 
preacher.  Wrought  a  good  work  in 
Hatfield,  and  left  us  all  too  soon. 

And  now,  per  contra, 

, . 

REV.  WARREN   H.  BEAMAN,  OF  NORTH 
HADLEY. 

Behold  the  man.  A  patient,  plod- 
ding toiler,  faithful  for  the  Master, 
with  good  will  doing  service,  and 
heartily,  as  unto  the  Lord.  Took 


The  Hampshire  Ministers.      99 

charge  of  a  small  church,  and  had 
the  joy  of  seeing  that  his  labors  were 
not  in  vain  in  the  Lord.  Much  to 
discourage  him  in  frequent  deaths  and 
removals,  yet  patiently  toiling  on  to 
strengthen  the  things  that  remained. 
In  all  things  showing  himself  a  pat- 
tern of  good  works ;  in  doctrine,  un- 
corruptness,  gravity,  sincerity,  sound 
speech  ;  an  example  of  the  believers 
in  word,  in  conversation,  in  charity,  in 
spirit,  in  faith,  in  purity.  Preached 
the  Word — preached  the  Gospel ;  not 
about  the  Gospel,  nor  about  the  plu- 
mage of  birds,  and  the  rings  of  Saturn, 
and  "  the  thingness  of  the  this."  And 
now,  after  a  well-spent  day,  still  hon- 
ored, and  still  useful  variously,  he  is, 
as  a  gracious  reward,  enjoying  a  serene 
and  tranquil  evening,  in  prospect  of 


ioo     The  Hampshire  Ministers. 

the  blessed  to-morrow — the  crown,  the 
white  robes,  the  everlasting  song.  And 
we  heartily  salute  him  with  our  Serus 
in  coelum  redeas. 

And  now,  last,  not  least, 

REV.  JOHN  H.  BISBEE,  OF  WORTHING- 

TON. 

Our  mountain  man  and  minister. 
And  the  minister  whose  pendulum  of 
journeyings  swung  patiently  between 
Worthington  and  Chesterfield  during 
the  millennium  of  twenty-eight  years 
— to  say  nothing  now  of  the  far  more 
of  home  and  parish  travel  over  hill 
and  dale,  and 

"  On  the  mountain  tops  appearing  " — 

ought  long  ago  to  have  received  a 
veteran's  life  pension  of  a  thousand 


The  Hampshire  Ministers.     101 

pounds  a  year.  Head  of  a  large  and 
flourishing  church  :  for,  in  those  early 
ages,  his  and  mine,  our  neighbors, 
Japheth  and  Arphaxad,  had  no  craze 
for  gold  mines,  no  craving  for  a  home 
in  sight  and  hearing  of  rail  and 
whistle ;  nor  were  our  hill-tops  and 
hill-sides  made  bare  of  choice  trees 
and  saplings  to  feed  prairie  fires  and 
fevers.  Grand  old  town,  this  Wor- 
thington — Hebron  of  Hampshire  !  and 
well  did  the  shepherd  there  feed  his 
flock,  and  gather  the  lambs.  And  his 
works  do  follow  him.  To-day  a  man 
has  no  right  to  be  buried  or  born 
there  without  Brother  Bisbee's  leave 
and  blessing.  Retiring  after  a  toil- 
some day  to  rest  himself  a  little  for 
the  longer  journey  and  the  better 
land,  he  has  left  behind  him  upon  his 


iO2     The  Hampshire  Ministers. 

beloved  people  his  own  rare  personal- 
ity and  impress,  to  remain  there  till 
the  mountains  be  removed,  and  be 
carried  into  the  midst  of  the  sea. 
His  footprints  still  on  every  rood 
and  rod  of  that  domain  ;  his  tears 
still  enriching  the  soil ;  his  hand  still 
carrying  bread  and  balm ;  his  voice 
and  smile  of  sympathy  and  glad- 
ness, and  the  soft  memory  of  his  vir- 
tues, lingering  yet, 

"  While  fields  and  floods,  rocks,  hills,  and  plains 
Repeat  the  sounding  joy." 


THE    OLD   WEBSTER'S    SPELLING- 
BOOK. 

THIS  gray  goose-quill  has  already 
scrawled  for  the  Gazette  some  few 
things  that  were,  or  seemed  to  be,  in 
my  Vermont  home  and  life,  in  my  times 
of  old :  the  scenery  and  scenes ;  the 
village  green  ;  the  meeting-house,  and 
minister  and  music ;  the  trainers  and 
troopers ;  the  tavern  and  tippling  ;  the 
old  school-house,  thoroughly  warmed 
once,  and  once  for  all  ;  the  school- 
ma'am,  venerable  for  antiquity  and  wis- 
dom— so  she  seemed ;  the  pastimes 
and  plays — husking,  paring,  and  other 
"  bees  ;  "  the  thousand  and  forty-seven 
fictions  and  fancies  that  play  round  a 
boy's  head,  both  when  he  sleeps  and 


IO4        Webster  s  Spelling-Book. 

when  he  wakes,  or,  the  kinks  within  it, 
and  hard  to  be  straightened  out. 

But  there  is  yet  one  thing  more,  a 
thing  masterful  and  preeminent,  whose 
high  praises  are  specially  deserving  to 
be  said  and  sung,  namely : 

OUR  OLD  WEBSTER'S  SPELLING-BOOK. 
It  lies  before  me,  the  genuine  arti- 
cle :  not  the  identical  copy  I  used  and 
was  brought  up  on,  long  time  ago, 
but  of  the  same  edition.  It  looks  old, 
as  do  the  rest  of  us,  old  people.  It  is 
nearly  as  old  as  I  am,  and  has  come 
spelling  its  way  along  down  through 
two-thirds  of  a  century,  to  these  odd 
times.  How  long  it  had  lain  in  the 
Boston  Antiquarian  bookstore  where  I 
found  it  thirty-five  years  ago,  I  cannot 
tell.  It  is  an  institution — yes,  a  uni- 


Webster 's  Spelling-Book.        io5 

versity.  It  has  trained  and  strained 
more  heads  than  any  other  book  of  the 
kind  ever  did,  or  perhaps  ever  will. 
Later  editions  have  been  sent  out ;  but 
give  me  the  old  wine,  which  to  my  lik- 
ing is  better.  Very  plain,  even  homely, 
in  outward  appearance.  Never  mind. 
Homely  people  are  generally  the  best. 
They  have  to  be — making  up  for  the 
homeliness  without  by  the  handsome- 
ness within.  It  is  a  blessed  necessity. 
The  back  of  the  cover  is  of  coarse 
linen  cloth  —  very  coarse  —  threads 
within  sight  of  each  other.  The  sides 
of  cover  are  of  layers  of  brown  paper, 
with  an  over-all  of  thin,  blue  paper. 
The  paper  and  pages  within  look  as 
if  they  might  have  come  from  a  mill 
using  bleached  straw  and  slacked  lime, 
with  a  little  sulphur  thrown  in  to  give 


io6        Webster's  Spelling-Book. 

the  tinting.  No  evidence  of  iron- 
board  and  smoothing-plane.  Please 
do  not  bring  here  your  microscope, 
.nor  criticise  sharply.  One  excellence 
the  paper  certainly  has :  it  is  tough 
and  strong — like  the  rugged  and  sturdy 
virtues  of  people  in  the  olden  time — 
which  is  more  and  better  than  can  be 
said  of  much  of  our  modern  letter- 
press. 

And  now  as  to  the  contents,  the 
meat  and  marrow.  Quite  a  book  in 
size — one  hundred  and  sixty-eight 
pages,  and  nuts  of  things  in  it,  all 
through.  The  Preface  we  didn't  have 
to  read.  But  the  next  half-dozen 
pages — "  Analysis  of  Sounds  " — we,  in 
our  school,  had  to  commit  to  memory 
and  recite.  This  amazed  us,  and  does 
still.  Just  to  think  of  a  child  eight  or 


Webster  s  Spelling-Book.        107 

nine  years  old  required  to  recite  un- 
derstandingly  the  opening  sentence : 
"  Language,  in  its  more  limited  sense, 
is  the  expression  of  ideas  by  articulate 
sounds." 

You  might  about  as  well  set  that 
child  to  comprehending  those  vast 
themes,  verities  so  important,  but  how 
profound,  viz.:  The  wherefore  of  the 
why,  the  thingness  of  the  this,  and  the 
thusness  of  the  though.  Makes  one 
think  of  Horace  Greeley,  who,  after 
reading  a  grandiloquent  communica- 
tion sent  to  him  for  the  press,  said  of 
it,  that  it  "  obfuscated  all  his  intellects, 
and  circumgumfrigobrighisticated  all 
his  comprehensibilities." 

And  come  to  the  A,  B,  C  page.  In 
my  times  of  old  we  children  learned 
our  A,  B,  C's  at  school,  and  not  at 


io8        Webster  s  Spelling-Book. 

home,  from  lettered  blocks  and  other 
knick-knacks,  as  in  these  latter  days. 
Some  of  those  first  things  at  school 
were  quite  impressive  to  the  looker-on 
and  listener.  One  case  we  well  re- 
member, and  a  case  it  was.  Stubby 
boy,  round-faced  and  ruddy.  Leaned 
up  hard  against  school-ma'am.  Began 
low.  Teacher  said,  "  A  little  louder, 
Jamie."  And  didn't  he !  "  A-yah, 
B-yah,  C-yah ; "  and  with  suck  vehe- 
mence !  No  blame  if  you  shall  think 
that  the  ceiling  shook,  and  the  air  was 
torn,  and  that  the  black  ants,  foraging 
on  his  dinner  in  the  entry,  lifted  up 
their  heads,  startled,  and  wondering 
whether  it  was  thunder,  or  only  an 
earthquake.  It  might  have  been  both. 
And  see  the  chap  fixing  his  lips  for 
the  next  explosion.  Or  perhaps  he  is 


Webster  s  Spelling-Book.        109 

looking  around  to  see  if  his  splendid 
achievement  is  duly  appreciated.  If 
so,  up  comes  the  school-ma'am's  hand 
—pointing  penknife  between  fingers 
—and  deftly  touches  the  side  of  his 
head,  and  swings  that  head  around  to 
right  front,  and  to  the  great  business 
in  hand — preparing  this  blossom  or 
bud  of  possibilities  for  his  high  voca- 
tion— perhaps  of  field-driver,  or  con- 
stable, or  corporal,  or  President  of  the 
United  States — who  can  tell? 

High  day  when  we  advanced  to 
Table  No.  2 — bag,  big,  bog.  But  the 
almost  dizzying  elevation  when  we 
ascended  and  attained  to  Table  No.  4 
— baker,  brier,  cider,  crazy.  It  is 
very  observable,  this  placing  crazy 
next  after  cider.  Here  are  fact  and 
philosophy,  cause  and  effect;  indeed,^ 


no        Webster s  Spelling-Book. 

temperance  lecture  entire.  How  those 
tables  of  spelling  lessons,  once  mas- 
tered, cling  to  the  memory  !  The  first 
word  given  you,  and  your  memory 
runs  on  to  the  next,  and  the  next  : 
much  as  in  a  line  of  bricks  set  up  on 
end,  and  set  a-going.  The  rough  and 
tumble  of  threescore  years  and  more 
have  scarcely  dimmed  the  page. 

Our  spelling-book — we  mean  the 
one  we  bought  in  Boston — has  about 
it  a  look  of  yellow  sorrowfulness  ;  in- 
duced, no  doubt,  from  its  frequent 
failures  to  make  good  spellers,  not- 
withstanding its  having  done  its  best ; 
very  much  as  with  the  moon,  her  sad 
face,  because  of  the  sad  sights  she  has 
been  compelled  to  see  with  those  great 
eyes  looking  down  nightly  on  this 
mundane  sphere.  You  will  be  told 


Webster s  Spelling- Book.        in 

that  some  men,  and  some  maidens, 
too,  haven't  the  capability  to  become 
good  spellers,  just  as  some  have  no 
ear  for  music.  Some  will  suggest  that 
good  spellers,  like  good  poets,  are 
born,  not  made.  Waiving  this  point, 
one  thing  is  certain  :  the  orthograph- 
ical limb  of  dear  old  King's  English 
often  gets  wofully  wrenched,  and 
goes  lame  and  limping,  and  begging 
for  crutches.  Hard  usage  indeed,  as 
with  the  man  who  went  down  from 
Jerusalem  to  Jericho,  and  fell  among 
thieves,  who  stripped  him  of  his  rai- 
ment, and  wounded  him,  and  left  him 
half  dead.  Some  letters,  spelled  as 
you  have  seen,  and,  at  seeing,  have 
been  astonied  one  hour.  Sorry  for 
postmasters  and  the  postal  service. 
Have  pity,  oh,  my  friends,  on  the 


112         Webster  s  Spelling-Book. 

printers ;  what  a  time  they  must  have 
of  it !  No  marvel  if  those  mail-bags 
blush  blood  red,  and  do  groan,  being 
burdened.  Is  the  mail-wagon  an  am- 
bulance or  a  hearse  for  carrying  the 
wounded  or  dead  ?  And  not  only  in 
such  hard  usage  does  the  King's  Eng- 
lish receive  wrong ;  it  inflicts  wrong. 
"The  letter  killeth."  We  read  of 
dead  languages.  Sometimes  in  read- 
ing a  letter  or  book  you  wonder  with 
a  very  sore  amazement.  A  few  days 
ago  I  received  from  a  college  graduate 
and  writer  of  books  a  letter  in  which 
two  words  were  misspelled.  How 
many  of  your  letters  give  you  Febru- 
ary as  Febuary  f  how  many,  separate 
as  seperate  f  And  one  church  member 
complaining  of  another  member  in  the 
"  churtch" 


Webster  s  Spelling-Book.        1 1 3 

Well,  let  us  spare  our  censure,  and 
say,  pity  and  charity.  A  great  misfor- 
tune, this  we  speak  of — utterly  a  fault 
in  any  man,  and  especially  in  any  per- 
son pretending  to  be  a  lady,  and 
should  be  shunned  by  all  manner  of 
means.  In  my  ancient  times  the  spell- 
ing lesson  was  studied,  column  by 
column,  from  the  spelling-book,  and 
spelled  by  the  classes,  old  and  young 
alike,  standing  on  the  floor — the  scholar 
taking  his  place,  and  keeping  it  if  he 
could,  the  month  in  and  out,  without 
having  his  head  cut  off  every  night — a 
rather  discouraging  operation  to  an 
aspiring  lad  or  lass.  But  here  we 
come  to  debatable  ground,  and  will 
call  a  halt.  As  to  aim  and  achieve- 
ment in  this  line — if  the  personal  men- 
tion may  be  allowed.  One  winter 


1 14         Webster  s  Spelling-Book. 

is  remembered  when  boy  kept  such 
headship  all  through  the  term,  and 
carried  off  the  great  prize,  a  punched 
and  pendant  silver  ninepence,  tow- 
string  and  all.  Perhaps  less  of  sliding 
down  hill  in  those  months.  Or,  with 
your  farther  indulgence.  A  noted 
spelling  match  in  a  neighboring  town. 
Visitors  invited  to  give  in  their  names, 
and  take  part  in  the  contest.  Sides 
chosen.  Came  out  even  at  8  P.M. 
Another  choosing  up.  Came  out  even 
again  at  9.  "  Let  us  have  this  out." 
One  from  each  side  must  go  upon 
the  floor,  and  spell  for  the  side. 
Against  aforesaid  boy  was  placed 
an  older  person,  Miss  H.  L'.,  who 
had  taught  school  four  summers. 
Plied  and  pumped  with  the  spelling- 
book  fore  and  aft,  and  aft  and  fore. 


Webster's  Spelling-Book.        1 1 5 

"  The  combat  deepens."  By  and  by 
the  word  apropos  was  put  to  the  fairer 
and  gentler,  and  she  spelled  it  appro- 
pos,  putting  in  one  too  many  p's,  and 
boy,  getting  it  right,  carried  off  the 
glitter.  But  we  will  not  boast  of 
things  without  our  measure. 

And  what  a  day  that  was  when  we 
stood  on  the  hill-top  of  human  great- 
ness, and  grappled  with  our  first  read- 
z#£--lesson  !  "  No  man  may  put  off  the 
law  of  God ; "  "  My  joy  is  in  his  law 
all  the  day."  See  that  boy,  in  his 
mighty  wrestlings  to  spell  out  the 
words !  Lips  moving  vigorously ; 
brow  knit,  book  turned  this  way  and 
that,  to  give  room  for  the  great  idea  to 
come  in  ;  his  whole  frame  writhing,  and 
screwed  down  hard  and  tight  to  the 
supreme  task.  Perhaps  he  will  "  fetch 


1 1 6         Webster  s  Spelling-Book. 

it,"  perhaps  not  ;  but  will  come  out  of 
the  throes  as  an  older  boy  did  from 
the  word  picturesque — pronouncing  it 
picture-squee.  But  don't  you  give  that 
small  boy  up.  There  is  promise  for 
him  in  such  an  energy  and  bent  as 
that. 

Then  a  succession  of  easy  and  fa- 
miliar lessons  ;  "  The  time  will  come, 
etc.  ; "  "  The  dog  growls  and  barks, 
etc. ; "  "  William,  tell  me  how  many 
mills  make  a  cent,  etc. "  (Some 
"  mills "  do  not  make  a  cent  at  all, 
but  lose  money  all  the  time.)  One  of 
these  commands  impressed  us  special- 
ly, and  does  still ;  "  Henry,  hold  up 
your  head,  and  speak  loud  and  plain." 
Herein  is  philosophy.  All  the  success 
in  General  Jackson's  administration — 
all  that  it  had — is  told  in  his  four 


Webster *s  Spelling-Book.        117 

words :  "  /  take  the  responsibility" 
That  lad,  speaking  softly  and  parting 
his  hair  in  the  middle,  and  carrying 
his  head  one  side,  and  himself  stoop- 
ingly — another  dude — has  already  lost 
half  the  battle  of  life. 

Then  in  our  spelling-book  those 
beautiful  little  sonnets  ;  The  Rose,  The 
Lamb,  The  Goldfinch  starved  in  a  cage ; 
all  admirably  adapted  to  cultivate  in  a 
child,  or  man,  the  finer  feelings ;  sensi- 
bility, sympathy,  gentleness,  kindness. 
A  boy  taking  home  to  his  heart  those 
four  little  songlets,  would  never  after- 
ward rob  a  bird's  nest,  nor  "  needlessly 
set  foot  upon  a  worm,"  but,  "  having 
humanity,  ,  forewarned,  would  step 
aside,  and  let  the  reptile  live." 

But  come  to  the  fables  and  the  pict- 
ures /  Here  is  richness.  "Of  the 


1 1 8        Webster 's  Spelling- Book. 

boy  that  stole  apples."  See  that  old 
man  under  the  tree.  Continental  coat 
and  hat ;  that  determined  attitude ; 
arm  drawn  back  to  a  fearful  tenseness  ; 
2O-horse  power  of  will  in  that  elbow ; 
hand  gripping  the  stone  (grass  has 
been  given  up)  .which  is  to  make  "  the 
young  sauce-box  hasten  down  from  the 
tree,  and  beg  the  old  man's  pardon." 
And  the  moral  appended,  "  If  good 
words  and  gentle  means  will  not  re- 
claim the  wicked,"  etc.  Then  Fable 
No.  2. — "  The  country  maid  and  her 
milk-pail."  Pail  upset,  and  milk 
spilled,  and  maid,  like  Niobe,  "  voice- 
less in  her  woe  "  : 

"  Ferlorner  'n  a  musquash  ef  you've 
took  and  dreened  the  swamp." 

Don't  blame  her.  Many  a  maid  has 
made  a  worse  ado  about  a  smaller 


Webster  s  Spelling-Book.        1 1 9 

mishap  than  that.  And  Fable  No.  3. 
— "  The  fox  and  the  swallow."  Fox 
with  water  under  him,  to  drown  him, 
flies  above  him  to  devour  him,  and  feet 
tangled  in  weeds — most  decidedly  a 
predicament,  yet  declining  the  swal- 
low's aid,  choosing  rather  to  endure 
the  present  swarm,  already  half  gorged, 
than  be  assailed  by  another  and  hun- 
grier. And  Fable  4. — That  cat,  cov- 
ered with  meal,  and  hanging  by  her  feet 
as  if  dead,  and  thus  deceiving  the  rats 
and  mice  to  their  undoing.  But  of  all 
these  Fables,  the  8th  and  last  hits  our 
common  life  oftenest  and  hardest ;  sel- 
fishness and  sense  of  justice  getting 
here  muddled  and  mixed  up  in  ludi- 
crous confusion  on  the  question, 
Whether  it  is  your  bull  that  has  gored 
my  ox,  or  mine  yours  ?  About  once  a 


I2O        Webster's  Spelling-Book. 

week  through  his  lifetime  is  that  fable 
brought  to  recollection  by  what  a  man 
sees  and  passes  through  in  "  this  poor 
miserable  world." 

Putting  on  the  spectacles  of  my  an- 
cientness,  I  have  been  looking  anew 
through  the  old  spelling-book  to  see 
how,  on  the  whole,  the  old  friend 
would  appear  to  me  now  in  these  lat- 
ter days  to  which  it  and  I  have  come 
down.  Grandly,  sir,  is  my  ready  an- 
swer ;  never  before  handsomer  than 
now — I  mean  the  book.  And  so  will 
it  appear  to  you,  my  friend,  from  the 
glance  or  the  scrutiny,  if  you  be  the 
sensible  man  I  take  you  for.  Useful 
lessons  on  weights,  measures,  coins, 
seasons,  and  times ;  choice  maxims,  to 
guide  our  conduct  every  day  ;  obser- 
vations on  domestic  economy ;  a  finely 


Webster  s  Spelling-Book.        121 

drawn  picture  of  rural  and  farm  life  ; 
just  as  Cowper  tells  us  that  God 
made  the  country,  and  man  the  town. 
Admirable  collection  and  grouping 
of  things,  coin  and  currency,  ready 
unto  all  good  works.  You  observe 
throughout  the  book  a  high  'moral 
and  religious  tone  and  tonic,  yes, 
a  Biblical  and  Christian  tone  and 
teaching. 

Our  old  spelling-book  has  its  clos- 
ing and  coronation  in  an  excellent 
"  moral  catechism,"  eight  pages,  on 
these  themes :  "  Of  Humility,  Mercy, 
Peace-makers,  Purity  of  Heart,  Anger, 
Revenge,  Justice,  Generosity,  Grati- 
tude, Truth,  Charity  and  giving  of 
Alms,  Avarice,  Frugality  and  Econ- 
omy, Industry  and  Cheerfulness." 
These,  surely,  are  excellent  things  to 


122        Webster s  Spelling-Boo k. 

be  learned    in  schools    and  elsewhere. 
And  the  earlier  the  better. 

I  said  Scriptural  and  Christian. 
Our  spelling-book  gave  us  Bible  max- 
ims in  Bible  words.  We  were  not 
frightened  in  those  days  by  alarm- 
cries  of  "  church  and  state."  Nobody 
was  wise  enough  to  tell  us  that  to  save 
the  land  from  utter  rottenness  and 
putrescence  the  Bible  and  prayer  must 
be  excluded  from  the  public  schools. 
We  were  not  taught  that  to  be  good 
patriots  we  must  be  infidels.  We  were 
simple  enough  to  believe  that  to  train 
a  tree  to  grace  and  beauty  we  must 
begin  with  its  early  growth.  Our  old 
English  Reader  told  us  that  "Just  as 
the  twig  is  bent  the  tree's  inclined ; " 
and  we  had  so  little  sense  as  to  believe 
it.  We  hadn't  attained  to  the  wisdom 


Webster  s  Spelling-Book.       123 

of  thinking  that  the  best  method  in  all 
education  is  to  let  the  devil  have  the 
making  of  your  children,  and  leave  to 
you  the  mending  of  them  as  best  you 
can.  We  hadn't  received  the  new  ver- 
sion— it  isn't  yet  quite  ready  for  the 
press — giving  the  translation  as  from 
the  Hebrew :  Train  up  a  child  in  the 
way  he  should  not  go,  and  when  he  is 
old  he  will  come  out  all  right.  True, 
there  is  the  FAMILY,  which  is  fans  et 
princeps  in  all  good  nurture  and  cult- 
ure. There  are  also  the  sanctuary 
and  Sabbath-school  ;  blessed  minis- 
tries. But  all  these  three  agree  in 
one,  and  are  built  up  upon  one — the 
Word  of  God.  The  Pilgrim  and  Puri- 
tan Fathers,  coming  to  these  shores, 
were  right  early  in  rearing  the  school - 
house,  and  placing  the  Bible  in  it,  as 


124        Webster  s  Spelling-Boo k. 

beyond  comparison  the  best  of  all 
books.  School-house  and  Bible  in  it- 
meeting-house,  and  minister,  and  town 
meeting;  from  thence  the  shepherd, 
the  stone  of  Israel — our  New  England 
Israel,  as  it  is,  or  was.  If  the  Bible 
is  not  in  our  public  schools  now,  as 
aforetime,  it  is  because  it  has  been  put 
out,  thrust  out.  But  not  to  sermonize 
farther  now  and  here. 

The  school-house  and  our  old  spell- 
ing-book— all  hail  and  farewell !  The 
closing  words  of  the  spelling-book 
shall  be  my  closing  here  :  "  Q.  What 
has  Christ  said  concerning  gloomy 
Christians  ?  A.  He  has  pronounced 
them  hypocrites ;  and  commanded  his 
followers  not  to  copy  their  sad  coun- 
tenances and  disfigured  faces ;  but 
even  in  their  acts  of  humiliation  to 


Webster s  Spelling- Book.        125 

anoint  their  heads  and  wash  their 
faces.  Christ  intended  by  this,  that 
religion  does  not  consist  in,  nor  re- 
quire, a  monkish  sadness  and  gravity ; 
on  the  other  hand,  he  intimates  that 
appearances  of  sanctity  are  generally 
the  marks  of  hypocrisy.  He  expressly 
enjoins  upon  his  followers  marks  of 
cheerfulness.  Indeed,  the  only  true 
ground  of  perpetual  cheerfulness  is  a 
consciousness  of  ever  having  done 
well,  and  an  assurance  of  divine  favor. 
Finis." 


REMINISCENCES  OF  BOYHOOD  LIFE 
IN  VERMONT  SIXTY  AND  MORE 
YEARS  AGO. 

No  place  on  earth  like  your  old  and 
early  home  to  set  you  musing  and 
mumbling.  Wonderful  the  magic 
spell  under  which  you  shake  off  years 
from  your  shoulders,  and,  for  a  little, 
live  your  young  life  over  again. 
Everything  you  see  talks  to  you, 
and  you  to  it.  The  stone,  the  stump, 
the  stream,  the  apple-tree  that  hung 
temptingly  over  the  school-ground 
fence,  and  laden  with  forbidden  fruit ; 
the  spot  where  the  old  strutting  "gob- 
ble turkey,"  seeing  your  red  cap,  gave 
chase,  and  came  off  second  best ;  the 
spot  where,  in  a  nightmare,  you  saw, 


Reminiscences  of  Boyhood.      127 

crossing  your  path,  a  huge  bear,  with 
a  long  fence-rail  in  his  mouth,  and 
glaring  at  you  ;  the  place  of  the  sheep- 
pen,  and  the  annual  washings — giving 
you  the  shudders,  in  seeing  and  pity- 
ing ;  the  spot  by  the  house-corner 
where,  on  Sabbath  afternoon,  Septem- 
ber n,  1814,  you  sat  with  brother  and 
sister,  and  heard  the  cannon-firing  in 
the  battle  of  Lake  Champlain — prop- 
erly the  closing  battle  in  the  War  of 
1812,  so-called;  the  brook  and  rocks 
where  stood  the  bark-mill  into  which, 
a  few  days  later,  you  ran,  and  saw 
shiveringly  through  the  cracks  in  the 
mill  and  in  your  eyes  those  awful, 
horrid  men,  Britishers,  red-coats,  pass- 
ing on  their  way  home  from  Burlington 
to  Canada ;  the  piece  of  road  over 
which  you  led  old  Mr.  Murray,  the 


128      Reminiscences  of  Boyhood. 

blind  man,  and  for  which  distinguished 
service  he  paid  you  munificently,  mak- 
ing over  to  you  and  your  heirs  and 
assigns  forever  all  his  right  and  title 
(five  dollars)  to  the  school-house  you 
were  just  then  passing.  True,  the 
house  was  not  palatial  in  size  and 
looks,  and  was  innocent  of  having  so 
much  as  dreamed  of  such  superfluities 
as  paint  and  stove  ;  and  in  no  long 
time  an  incendiary  fire  made  the  room 
warmer  than  it  had  ever  before  been. 
Not  a  vast  estate,  to  be  sure  ;  but  it 
was  "  yourn,"  and,  while  it  lasted,  was 
of  as  much  use  to  you  as  many  another 
and  prouder  possession  has  been  to  an 
older  but  not  wiser  than  you.  Hap- 
pily, before  the  conflagration,  you  had 
gotten  from  the  house  the  best  it  could 
give — the  first  run  of  sap,  so  to  speak. 


Reminiscences  of  Boyhood.      1 29 

Those  high  writing  benches,  and  on 
them  the  names  graven  by  art  and 
man's  device,  and  thus  made  illustrious 
for  all  time.  But  that  masterpiece  of 
tyranny  and  torment,  those  under- 
benches,  narrow  and  cramped,  where, 
bolt  upright,  and  with  feet  dangling, 
the  youngest  America  sat,  or  fell  off — 
you  did  both  by  turns — it  would  take 
twenty  languages  to  execrate  ade- 
quately this  part  of  that  school-house's 
conveniences  and  accommodations. 

And  then  our  "school-ma'am"  of 
that  ancient  time.  We  go  back  to  an 
almost  fabulous  antiquity  to  have  one 
more  look  at  her — not  that  you  your- 
self are  so  old.  Miss  P.  H.  We  seem 
to  see  her  now — tall,  straight,  stately, 
slim,  spruce,  staid,  and  sedate ;  face 
open,  placid,  bland,  like  Washington's ; 

9 


130     Reminiscences  of  Boyhood. 

eyes  blue ;  hair  of  hue  somewhere  be- 
tween saffron  and  sulphur ;  of  gentle 
and  condescending  ways ;  strict  with- 
out sternness  in  discipline  :  "  You  must 
go  straight  home,  and  not  loiter  by  the 
way ;  must  take  off  caps  and  make 
your  bow  to  every  one  passing  you  on 
the  road."  Sidewalks  were  none — 
and  roads  themselves  were  rudimental 
and  primitive.  The  custom  or  act  of 
whistling,  when  passing  people  in  the 
street,  or  in  their  presence  anywhere 
— mark  of  the  rustic  and  the  boor, 
indicating  low  breeding  and  a  low 
plane  of  life — didn't,  in  that  early  day, 
set  one  questioning  whether  his  home 
was  among  Fiji  Islanders,  or  among  a 
people  having  some  idea  of  good  man- 
ners, gentility,  decency,  decorum. 
But  returning  to  our  school-ma'am. 


Reminiscences  of  Boyhood.      1 3 1 

We  have  since  that  early  time  met 
with  teachers  many  and  various — some 
very  good,  and  some  indifferently  good 
— some  wise  and  some  otherwise.  But 
this  one,  our  own  and  primeval,  ex- 
celled them  all.  She  was  peerless, 
transcendent,  ineffable. 

"  And  still  you  gazed,  and  still  the  wonder  grew, 
That  one  small  head  could  carry  all  she  knew." 

You  go  back  in  fancy  to  those  be- 
ginnings with  the  good  dame,  and  of 
your  own  grand  march  of  mind  : 

"  Propt  on  the  marsh,  a  dwelling  now  I  see, 
The  humble  school-house  of  my  A,  B,  C, 
Where  well-drilled  urchins,  each  behind  his  tire, 
Waited  in  ranks  the  wished  command  to  fire  ; 
Then  all  together,  when  the  signal  came, 
Discharged  their  a-b  abs  against  the  dame." 

When  you  are  seven  years  of 


132      Reminiscences  of  Boyhood. 

the  family  home  is  changed  from  the 
North  District  to  the  East,  the  pleas- 
antest  in  the  town.  Here  your  boy- 
hood— its  ups  and  downs,  its  day- 
dreams and  night-visions,  the  mirth 
and  the  melancholy,  the  alternations  of 
schooling  and  work.  Boyhood  !  The 
apostle,  in  i  Cor.  xiii.,  speaks  of  only 
two  life  periods — the  childish  and  the 
manly.  But  can  you  not  conceive  of  a 
something  wedged  in  between — that 
oddity  and  nondescript,  the  average 
boy?  Have  poets  or  painters  any- 
where pictured  him  farther  than  in 
roughest  outline  ?  You  may  as  well 
give  it  up.  He  is  a  puzzle  and  a  mys- 
tification. 

But  your  boyhood,  and  the  scenes 
revisited  and  remembered  by  you  from 
over  the  interval  of  nearly  sixty  years. 


Reminiscences  of  Boyhood.     133 

You  sit  again  on  that  boulder,  and 
stand  by  the  brook,  now  dry,  or  push 
into  "  the  sugar  works," 

"  And  the  tree  is  your  seat,  that  once  lent  you 
a  shade." 

The  slope  where  you  slid  down  hill 
in  winter.  The  interminable  half- 
mile  to  school.  The  school-house— 
for  once  on  a  sightly,  pleasant  spot, 
and  not  penuriously  shoved  off  into 
some  swampy  or  rocky  corner,  where 
the  land  is  good  for  nothing  else. 
The  meeting-house  hill  you  had  to 
climb  in  going  home  on  Sundays. 
The  copse  of  wood  where  you  searched 
diligently  for  a  straight  stick  from 
which  to  make  a  broom,  or  a  crooked 
one  for  sled-runners.  The  tall  black 
cherry  tree  in  the  upland  pasture, 


134     Reminiscences  of  Boyhood. 

where  you  heard  those  midgets,  Ed- 
gar and  Willie,  explain  philosophically 
why  the  gray  squirrel,  shot  dead,  didn't 
come  down  quickly — "Coz  he  thought 
he  was  alive."  The  "  Sodom  "  (next 
to  "  Snarlsboro ")  to  which  you  were 
sent  to  mill  on  horseback,  large  bag 
strung  across,  and  small  boy  perched 
on  top.  The  west  meadow,  peopled 
by  a  community  of  bumble-bees,  clad 
in  their  regimentals,  and  affording  to 
boydom  on  rainy  days  in  haying-time 
a  field  for  heroism  and  enterprise  in 
breaking  up  their  habitations.  And, 
not  least,  the  brick  school-house  at  the 
centre,  where,  on  a  well-remembered 
afternoon,  you,  with  J.  W.,  were  de- 
livered of  your  first  Latin  translation 
(of  terra  est  rotunda],  and  thereby 
gained  an  elevation  from  which  to  be 


Reminiscences  of  Boyhood.      136 

sorry  for  all  such  of  mankind  as  were 
not  familiar  with  Latin  literature. 

Of  all  the  notable  places  in  our 
town,  the  Village  Green  easily  bore 
off  the  palm.  Large  and  level,  not 
smooth,  nor  adorned  with  shrubbery 
and  sidewalks  and  sylvan  shades — 
arbor  days  and  village  improvement 
societies  hadn't  been  dreamed  of.  But 
the  grand  meeting-house  was  upon  it 
centrally,  then  and  since  one  of  the 
costliest  and  goodliest  in  Vermont, 
and  now,  in  its  almost  hundredth  year, 
the  town's  occupancy  and  pride.  To 
our  young  vision  it  was  a  veritable 
St.  Peter's  of  Rome. 

Our  calendar  in  those  early  ages 
didn't  blaze  numerously  with  holidays. 
But  we  had  notably  two  in  the  year, 
the  training  days,  June  and  Fall,  and 


136      Reminiscences  of  Boyhood. 

the  coming  of  these  was  calculated 
with  an  accuracy  and  a  definiteness 
unsurpassed  by  astronomers  in  their 
great  vocation  and  their  greatest 
achievements.  Two  mornings  in  the 
year,  certainly,  on  which  boys  didn't 
need  to  be  shaken  violently  out  of 
sleep. 

But  the  Green  !  Ruled  sovereignly 
by  the  geese  all  the  year  round,  ex- 
cepting two  days,  and  patriotically 
abdicated  by  them  on  those  two  days, 
on  behalf  of  the  trainers  and  troopers 
and  gingerbread  stands,  and  for  the 
saving  of  the  nation.  Hail  Columbia  ! 
Evidently  the  trainers  had  not  been 
drilled  at  West  Point,  and  the  troopers 
had  not  graduated  from  a  riding- 
school.  "  Light  Infantry "  deemed 
themselves  a  little  prim  in  dress  and 


Reminiscences  of  Boyhood.     137 

movement,  but  "  Floodwood  "  jogged 
on  miscellaneously,  every  one  for 
himself,  a  sort  of  royal  democracy. 
But  we  had  not  grown  critical ;  and 
the  trappings  and  tinsel  martingales, 
spurs,  epaulets,  guns,  drums,  plumes, 
knapsacks,  and  canteens  were  quite 
imposing,  not  to  say  "exceeding  mag- 
nificat," to  young  eyes. 

And  then  the  tavern  across  the 
way — "  hotel  "  was  reserved  for  a 
more  advanced  civilization.  With  us 
it  was  tavern,  and  on  training  days 
our  tavern  was  by  a  long  reach  the 
busiest  place  in  town  ;  and,  to  say 
truth,  threescore  years,  since  passing, 
have  not  in  this  town  effaced  wholly 
the  calamitous  effects.  But  the  demi- 
johns and  decanters  and  tumblers  and 
toddy-sticks  long  ago  took  leave  of 


138      Reminiscences  of  Boyhood. 

that  house — glad  riddance — and  to- 
day, in  their  stead,  is  the  Post-Office, 
with  boxes  and  benches  for  the  better 
use  and  service. 

"There's  a  good  time  coming,  boys  ! 
Wait  a  little  longer  " — wait  and  work. 

The  temperance  cause,  most  glori- 
ous of  causes,  is  grandly  marching  on, 
good  angels  helping,  and  is  sure  of 
the  ultimate  triumph.  God  and  con- 
science, and  truth  and  right  and 
reason,  and  the  Gospel  entire,  and  the 
eternal  years,  are  for  it,  and  are  against 
all  those  who,  in  this  day  of  light,  are 
doing  the  evil.  Sure  as  the  alterna- 
tion of  day  and  night,  the  day  is 
speeding  towards  us  when  this  whole 
business  of  rum-selling  and  its  fruit 
and  issue,  the  making  of  drunkards, 


Reminiscences  of  Boyhood.      139 

will  be  universally  an  astonishment 
and  an  hissing — the  world's  amaze- 
ment that  such  a  thing  could  ever 
have  been.  Good  friends,  better  quit 
that  business,  if  engaged  in  it,  and  that 
right  early.  There  certainly  is  some- 
thing better  for  a  humane  and  manly 
man  to  be  doing  in  this  world,  as 
preparation  for  the  to-morrow  and 
to-morrow  before  him,  than  to  be 
kindling  and  feeding  these  death-fires 
in  his  fellow-men.  All  honor  to  my 
native  town  of  to-day,  for  the  good 
fight  it  has  fought  against  the  rum- 
fiend,  and  for  its  present  stand  and 
name  as  a  temperance  town  in  a 
temperance  commonwealth. 

I  meant  to  have  said  a  word  about 
the  land  here.  Look  upon  those 
wheat-fields.  I  have  not  seen  richer 


140     Reminiscences  of  Boyhood. 

in  Illinois.  In  comparison  of  the 
loamy  and  generous  mould  here,  the 
soil  in  Massachusetts,  much,  if  not 
most  of  it,  is  thin,  stingy,  and  grudg- 
ing, as  if  intent  on  solving  the  problem 
of  how  to  get  from  the  farmer  the 
most  in  sowing,  and  give  him  back  the 
least  at  reaping.  "  If  this  be  treason 
(to  Massachusetts),  make  the  most 
of  it." 

Our  visit  has,  of  course,  its  pathet- 
ic side.  We  miss  the  once-familiar 
forms  and  faces.  The  landscape, 
hills,  vales,  meadows,  streams,  River 
Lamoille,  beautiful  Lake  Champlain, 
and  the  Adirondacks  beyond — Nature 
in  her  best  attire  and  moods. 

"  Heavens  !  what  a  goodly  prospect 
spreads  around ! "  All  these  are 
much  as  of  old.  But  of  the  people 


Reminiscences  of  Boyhood.     141 

there  remain  but  a  scanty  few, 
scarcely  more  than  half  a  dozen,  who 
had  attained  to  adult  years  when,  in 
1827,  we  left  for  academy  and  college, 
and  regions  beyond.  The  many  have 
passed.  We  visit  their  graves,  and 
let  memory  have  scope,  without  put- 
ting on  sackcloth,  as  if  disappointed 
at  finding  that  the  prophets  do  not 
live  always  in  this  world.  There  is 
another  and  better.  "  And  now 
abideth  faith,  hope,  charity — these 
three  "  — a  strong  consolation  ;  and, 
with  good  old  Dr.  Watts,  we  will  sing 
again  :  "  Let  every  tear  be  dry." 
Most  affecting  of  such  places  are  the 
Machpelahs  of  parents,  brothers, 
sisters. 

The    dear    old    town !     We    could 
wish  there  were  more  of  public  spirit 


142      Reminiscences  of  Boyhood. 

and  enterprise  to  beautify  and  adorn, 
where  nature  has  been  so  lavish  of 
her  gifts.  But  we  are  not  in  a  fault- 
finding humor.  "  With  all  thy  faults 
I  love  thee  still."  It  was  our  early 
home. 

"  The  earliest  tie  that  binds  the  heart, 

Will  ever  be  the  brightest,  strongest, 
And  though  the  treasured  links  may  part, 
Their  memory  will  linger  longest." 

Here  we  were  born,  and,  we  hope, 
were  born  again.  Here,  and  espe- 
cially in  that  inner  sanctuary,  holiest 
of  all,  the  family  household,  were 
vouchsafed  us  those  plastic  influences 
which,  more  than  all  things  upon  us 
since,  have  molded  us  to  what  we 
are,  and  have  been  and  done,  for 
better  or  for  worse. 

A   Christian  family — the  thousand 


Reminiscences  of  Boyhood.     143 

and  one  accidents  and  incidents- 
God  lifting  up  the  fallen  sparrow — the 
cares  and  toils,  the  loves  and  longings, 
the  partings  and  the  welcomes  home, 
the  Bible-reading  and  Sabbath-keep- 
ing, the  old  bass-viol,  the  singings 
often,  and  the  praying  alway ;  and 
now,  how  the  fond  recollections  are  all 
the  more  an  enchantment  and  a  power 
upon  us  for  the  years  and  changes 
that  have  come  and  gone, 

l<  As  streams  their  channels  deeper  wear." 

I  close  these  jottings  with  a  stanza 
from  a  sweet  hymn  composed  by  my 
Yale  classmate,  Coxe,  late  Lieutenant- 
Governor  of  Maryland  : 

"  How  such  holy  memories  cluster, 

Like  the  stars  when  storms  are  past ; 
Pointing  up  to  that  far  heaven 
We  may  hope  to  gain  at  last." 


LETTER  READ  AT  THE  ONE  HUN- 
DRED AND  FIFTIETH  ANNIVER- 
SARY OF  THE  FIRST  CONGREGA- 
TIONAL CHURCH  OF  AMHERST, 

MASS. 

THE  authorities  here  bid  me  use  the 
utmost  freedom  in  personal  reminis- 
cences. The  egotism  involved  must 
be  borne  with. 

Well  remember  my  first  journey 
hither,  specially  the  ride  from  Palmer ; 
the  muddy  roads,  the  shell  and  shackle 
of  a  coach,  with  more  than  a  mild 
flavor  of  antiquity  about  it ;  harness 
giving  out  three  times  before  we 
reached  Belchertown  ;  our  Jonathan  of 
a  driver  well  equipped  with  straps  and 
strings  against  contingencies.  No 
"  Sheridan's  Ride  "  that.  Called,  as  by 


Anniversary  at  Amherst. 


direction,  on  Edward  Dickinson,  Esq., 
then  occupying  the  east  part  of  Gen- 
eral Mack's  house.  After  tea  with 
him,  a  Mr.  Luke  Sweetser  came  with 
lantern,  and  led  me  up  through  a  piece 
of  woods  to  his  house  among  the  trees. 
Sabbath  morning,  and  a  nervous  head- 
ache. Asked  Rev.  Mr.  Spofford  to  sit 
with  me,  and  offer  the  long  prayer. 
And  what  did  he  pray  for  ?  One  thing, 
certainly  :  "  that  in  the  question  and 
trial  now  before  us,  thy  young  servant 
and  this  people  may  be  guided  by  the 
wisdom  from  above,  and  be  led  to  such 
a  conclusion  as,  will  be  for  the  glory 
of  God,  and  the  best  interests  of  his 
kingdom."  Good  man,  this  Mr.  Spof- 
ford; I  forgave  him,  and  forgive  now. 
But  oh  !  and  alas  !  to  be  strung  up 
like  that  to  begin  with  ! 


10 


146     Anniversary  at  Amherst. 

Got  through  that  day  and  evening 
somehow.  The  next  morning,  the 
church  and  parish  committees  met  at 
the  office  of  Edward  Dickinson,  Esq. 
I  was  asked  to  be  present.  They  had  in 
some  way  rightly  learned  that  in  com- 
ing I  had  in  mind  to  stay  but  two 
Sabbaths  at  most.  Against  this  they 
strongly  protested.  My  own  mind 
was  unalterably  fixed.  Candidating ! 
Whereunto  shall  I  liken  it  ?  Behold 
and  consider  a  fish  caught  with  a  hook, 
and  hung  up  by  the  gills.  To  think  of 
it :  a  man  standing  in  a  pulpit  before 
a  people  all  eyes  and  ears,  eagerly 
intent  on  learning  what  manner  of 
man  this  is,  and  himself,  if  it  be  so 
with  him,  saying,  impliedly :  "  Won't 
you,  beloved,  take  me  for  your  min- 
ister ?  Do,  please."  Well,  some 


Anniversary  at  Amherst.      147 

persons,  strung  and  tuned  humanly, 
can  do  some  things  which  others  can- 
not. A  public  sentiment  just  now  is 
worthily  asking  that  our  executions  for 
murder  be  by  electricity,  and  so  be  as 
short  and  painless  as  possible.  The 
letter  to  me  said,  "Supply ;  "  and  I  had 
come  with  thoughts  as  far  from  can- 
didating  as  I  could  be,  and  yet  be 
here. 

After  nearly  a  two  hours'  talk,  it 
was  decided  that  I  should  remain  and 
preach  on  the  following  Sabbath,  and 
that,  in  the  meantime,  I  should  call  on 
the  families  of  the  parish — the  commit- 
tees taking  turns  in  leading  me  about. 
Of  that  week's  work  Esquire  Dickinson 
was  said  to  have  said  :  "  That  Colton 
is  a  marvel  of  a  man — to  visit  two 
hundred  families  in  one  week,  and  tire 


148      Anniversary  at  Amherst. 

out  seven  committee-men,  and  pat 
every  woman's  baby." 

The  two  Sabbaths  I  have  now 
spoken  of  were  the  first  and  second 
in  March,  1840.  The  call  came  in  due 
time.  June  loth  following  was  ap- 
pointed for  my  ordination. 

I  here  reach  a  point  in  personal 
experience  memorable  indeed  to  me. 
I  had  come  to  Amherst,  was  counseled 
to  come  by  the  Andover  Seminary 
faculty  ;  came  to  a  large  church  and 
parish,  to  a  people  intimately  con- 
nected with  a  chief  New  England  col- 
lege, of  which  I  had  not  been  a 
member ;  came  from  long  and  close 
seclusion  of  student  life,  to  new  scenes, 
cares,  toils,  burdens.  Could  I  prove 
equal  to  the  demands  ?  Many,  my 
best  friends,  were  in  doubt  of  me. 


Anniversary  at  Amherst.      149 

Wouldn't  it  have  been  better  to  begin 
with  a  less  exacting  charge  ? 

Tuesday,  June  9.  Came  from  Bos- 
ton with  my  preacher,  Rev.  Wm.  M. 
Rogers  of  that  city.  Council  waiting 
for  us  at  the  house  of  Mr.  Gideon 
Delano,  in  Amity  Street.  Council 
organized  at  2  P.M.,  with  President 
Humphrey  as  moderator.  Docu- 
ments presented  and  approved. 
Then  the  march  to  the  church — mod- 
erator and  candidate  arm  in  arm,  and 
followed  by  a  large  company,  repre- 
sentatives of  the  churches.  Some- 
thing of  form,  if  not  of  comeliness,  in 
the  times  of  old.  Large  gathering  in 
the  church.  Stood  nearly  two  hours 
for  examination.  Whether  I  stood 
the  examination  itself,  I  do  not  say. 
Coming  out  of  the  church  after  that 


i5o     Anniversary  at  Amherst. 

ordeal,  I  was  met  at  the  door  by  a 
Mr.  Clark  Green,  asking  me  to  come 
to  his  house  on  the  evening  of  the 
next  day  (ordination  day)  and  marry 
his  daughter.  Well,  well,  didn't  this 
mean  business  and  binding? 

Ordination  day,  Wednesday,  June 
10.  Charming  day.  Great  number 
of  friends  from  down  the  river. 
Church  filled.  The  Hampshire  Ga- 
zette of  the  following  Tuesday  said : 
"  All  the  parts  were  listened  to  with 
very  unusual  interest.  The  sermon  was 
masterly  in  matter  and  manner.  Dr. 
Humphrey,  giving  charge  to  the  peo- 
ple, said  :  '  When  your  pastor  comes, 
receive  him  wherever  you  may  be. 
Disturb  no  dust,  make  no  apologies. 
Do  not  spend  the  first  half  of  the  visit 
in  complaining  because  he  doesn't 


Anniversary  at  Amherst.      i5i 

come  oftener,  and  the  last  half  because 
it  is  so  short ;  but  make  his  visit  so 
pleasant  that  he  cant  stay  away."1 

Thus  the  great  day  and  occasion — 
great  to  me.  At  evening  twilight  I 
was  on  my  way  to  the  wedding  in  Mill 
Valley.  Met  Judge  Dickinson  in  the 
road  opposite  the  president's  house. 
Saw  at  once  from  his  dress  and  un- 
shaven face  that  he  had  not  attended 
my  ordination.  Was  it  come  to  this  at 
my  beginnings  here  ?  Deacon  in  the 
church,  college  educated,  one  of  the 
wealthiest  in  the  town.  But  no  mat- 
ter now  for  the  reasons,  if  I  ever  knew 
them,  of  this  holding  back.  Enough 
my  grateful  testimony,  that  Judge 
Dickinson  became,  in  no  long  time, 
and  continued  to  the  last  to  be,  one  of 
my  best  friends  and  helpers. 


1 52      Anniversary  at  Amherst. 

Leaving  the  wedding  party,  I 
returned  to  the  Amherst  House,  to 
my  room,  south  front,  directly  over 
the  office.  But  there  was  no  sleep  for 
me  that  night,  nor  lying  down.  Two 
such  days,  with  their  draughts  on 
nature,  the  exactions  and  exhaustions. 
The  strain  was  nigh  to  breaking. 
Once  in  the  night  I  said  to  myself, 
"  This  is  all  a  dream,  and  I  shall  wake, 
and  be  relieved."  But,  the  curtain 
turned  aside,  and  the  full  moon  shin- 
ing brightly,  and  down  there  in  plain 
sight  were  the  signs  on  offices  and 
stores.  "  This  certainly  is  no  dream." 
Then  a  more  than  half  purpose  to 
leave  Amherst  before  morning.  Knew 
and  said,  "  There  will  be  a  noise  over 
this.  Strange  freak,  man  called  and 
settled,  and  ran  away  the  first  night." 


Anniversary  at  Amherst. 


But  then  there  were  five  reasons  which 
might  satisfy  my  friends  —  chiefly  this, 
that  I  had  been  unwisely  counseled 
to  come  here,  instead  of  taking  one  of 
the  lighter  charges  that  had  been 
offered  me.  Then  there  were  thoughts 
of  dark  and  desperate  expedients. 
Blessed  thing,  that  morning  follows 
night.  But  that  morning  brought  no 
relief  to  me.  At  10  o'clock  Mr.  J.  S. 
Adams  called.  Saw  I  was  cast  down. 
His  gentleness  of  voice  and  ways,  some 
of  you  can  remember.  But  there  was 
as  yet  no  easement.  Providential  that 
the  weekly  church  prayer-meeting 
came  that  (Thursday)  afternoon. 
Large  attendance  at  the  church. 
Took  my  place  behind  the  communion 
table,  invoked  a  blessing,  read  a  brief 
Scripture,  then  said,  I  had  always 


1 54     Anniversary  at  Amherst. 

thought  that,  in  assuming  a  pastoral 
charge,  one  took  upon  himself  a  great 
burden,  but  I  never  felt  it  as  I  did 
now.  I  was  not  able  to  speak  further. 
Deacon  Mack  quickly  rose  and  said : 
"  Oh  !  our  pastor  mustn't  think  so  ;  the 
burden  is  mutual ;  it  is  on  us  all  as 
well  as  on  him,  and  we  all,  pastor  and 
people,  will  help  each  other  all  we  can. 
And,  best  of  all,  God  will  help  us,  and 
we  shall  be  stayed  up." 

Then  he  prayed  for  "  Our  Pastor;" 
and  another  prayed,  and  another.  The 
meeting  closed.  On  my  way  to  my 
room,  at  a  spot  between  the  homes  of 
Professor  Fowler  and  Mrs.  Moore,  the 
terrible  load  rolled  off  suddenly  and 
wholly,  and  if  I  ever  went  to  my  knees 
and  thanked  God  for  a  great  deliv- 
erance, I  did  so  then.  I  have  seen 


Anniversary  at  Amherst.      i55 

something  of  care  and  toil  and  pain, 
but  such  a  horror  of  great  darkness 
has  so  far  been  but  once  upon  me,  and 
I  hope  and  pray  that  the  same,  or  like 
of  it,  may  not  come  on  me  again. 

Perhaps  I  am  wrong  in  saying  all 
this  here  and  now.  If  so,  it  can  be 
forgiven  me.  I  have  never  before 
spoken  it  in  public,  excepting  once, 
and  in  part — in  giving  the  right  hand 
to  a  young  brother  assuming  a  similar 
charge. 

A  year  or  two  before  I  came  here, 
the  parish  had  voted  that  the  pastor, 
Mr.  Bent,  receiving  presents  from 
non-parish  members  of  the  congrega- 
tion, should  account  for  the  same  to 
the  parish.  I  had  been  here  but  a 
few  weeks,  when  a  handsome  travel- 
ing valise  was  sent  me.  I  well  divined 


1 56      Anniversary  at  Amherst. 

it  was  a  tester — to  see  what  the  new 
man  would  do  about  it.  I  returned 
the  gift,  and  with  it  as  pleasant  a 
letter  as  I  knew  how  to  write  ;  thank- 
ing the  donor  for  his  kindness,  and 
adding,  that  I  could  not  give  to  the 
parish  the  present  he  had  sent  to  me, 
and  that  it  would  not  do  for  me  to 
break  a  parish  rule.  To  the  first 
meeting  of  parish  thereafter  I  sent 
word  that  the  rule  was  embarrassing 
me  in  my  parish  visitation.  The  rule 
was  rescinded,  and  then  the  men  who 
had  signed  off  returned  to  their  place 
and  part,  and  so  that  ripple  sank  from 
view. 

Perhaps  some  of  the  ancients  here 
can  call  to  recollection  the  old  pulpit 
in  our  meeting-house  in  1840.  Of 
pine  wood,  narrow,  doored,  and  ach- 


Anniversary  at  Amherst.      i5f 

ingly  plain.  Man  up  there  had  to 
look  well  to  his  elbows  in  essaying  a 
gesture.  High,  and  closed  against  all 
assaults  ;  but  so  were  the  old  Bastile 
towers  in  which  prisoners  were  im- 
mured. 

In  1842  or  '43  the  parish  obtained 
from  Boston  a  new  pulpit — the  same 
now  in  the  house — a  costly  and  very 
comely  affair  for  those  times.  Then 
there  were  other  fixings  and  furnish- 
ings. Then  the  grounds  around  the 
church  must  be  graded  and  put  in 
shape — a  labor  of  days  and  many 
hands.  You  might  have  seen  Lawyer 
Osmyn  Baker,  coat  off,  and  axe  in 
hand,  pleading  three  hours  in  master- 
ful logic  for  the  ejectment  of  a  stump 
from  its  ancient  tenure  and  holding  on 
domain  of  the  said  church  aforesaid. 


1 58      Anniversary  at  Amherst. 

There  was  admirable  enterprise.     The 
people  had  a  mind  to  work. 

I  am  not  able  to  boast  that,  in  com- 
ing here,  I  found  a  church  and  parish 
weak,  and,  in  leaving,  left  them  strong. 
They  were  strong  from  the  first  of  my 
knowing  them,  or  knowing  of  them. 
Perhaps  the  parish  has  never  since 
been  stronger  as  to  number,  character, 
wealth,  and  standing  of  chief  men. 
To  show  this  to  one  whose  memory 
can  stretch  itself  to  the  men  and 
things  here  fifty  years  ago,  one  has 
only  to  speak  some  of  the  names  then 
found  here.  Deacons,  Eleazar  Gay- 
lord,  John  Leland,  John  Dickinson, 
David  Mack,  and  Isaac  Hawley  ;  law- 
yers, Edward  Dickinson,  Osmyn 
Baker,  Lucius  Boltwood,  and,  a  little 
later,  Charles  Delano  and  Samuel  T. 


Anniversary  at  Amherst.      i5g 

Spaulding ;  doctors,  Sellon,  Gridley, 
Dorrance,  and  Cutler ;  merchants, 
Mack  &  Son,  James  Kellogg  &  Son, 
Sweetser  &  Cutler,  Pitkin  &  Kellogg 
and  Holland;  reverends,  Sanford  and 
Spofford ;  teacher,  Nahum  Gale,  of 
the  academy  ;  editor,  J.  R.  Trumbull ; 
Mr.  Green  and  Joseph  Sweetser,  of 
the  Amherst  Bank ;  Messrs.  Fiske  Cut- 
ler, Andrew  Wilson,  Thomas  Jones, 
J.  S.  and  C.  Adams,  S.  C.  Carter,  Sim- 
eon Clark,  Newton  Fitch,  Linus  Green, 
Aaron  Belden,  Horace  Smith,  Martin 
Kellogg,  Chester  Kellogg,  Seth  Nims, 
Postmaster  Strong,  the  Smiths,  Bak- 
ers, Boltwoods,  Kelloggs,  Dexters, 
and  Williamses  of  Mill  Valley ;  the 
Cowles,  Hawleys,  and  Nashes,  of 
Plainville  ;  and  the  names  Cowles, 
Angier,  Bangs,  Ayres,  Eastman,  and 


160      Anniversary  at  Amkerst. 

Dickinson  of  the  North  Roads  ;  these 
and  more — for  I  draw  from  memory, 
and  must  stop  somewhere. 

Surely  a  field,  this,  to  call  for  and 
call  out  the  best  and  most  that  any 
minister  could  have  and  give. 

As  to  those  my  deacons,  specially 
the  first  four ;  venerable  men  in  form 
and  aspect,  all  verging  toward  seventy 
years  of  age,  crowned  with  hoary 
heads — men  of  affairs,  and  wise  in 
counsel.  Happily  for  us,  we  didn't 
then  turn  off  our  deacons  every  year 
or  two — a  practice  I  never  believed  in, 
and  never  shall. 

Don't  you,  now,  be  too  hard  on 
a  young  minister,  if,  unawares,  there 
sometimes  stole  into  his  heart  a  tim- 
orous fragrance,  just  a  bit  of  sly 
elation  at  seeing  those  venerable 


Anniversary  at  Amherst.      161 

forms,  his  deacons,  pass  round  with 
the  bread  and  wine  in  the  communion 
hour  and  service.  We  are  human 
still — some  of  us  are — having,  I  hope, 
a  little  of  grace  with  our  much  of 
nature. 

It  was  a  point  of  trial  in  those  days, 
that  this  church  and  parish  had  no 
parsonage,  no  chapel,  nor  vestry. 
Our  evening  meetings  were  held  in 
the  Academy  building,  then  in  care  of 
a  student,  aided  and  aiding  himself  in 
preparation  for  the  ministry — the  late 
Rev.  Dr.  Isaac  Bliss  of  Constanti- 
nople. Happily  for  pastor  and  people, 
and  in  the  behoof  of  all  that  is  fair 
and  right,  those  aching  voids  here 
have  been  filled,  to  the  joy  and  praise 
of  many. 

And   then,  as   to  the  old  meeting- 


1 62      Anniversary  at  Amherst. 

house  on  the  hill,  whither  'the  tribes 
went  up.  Homely  in  outward  looks, 
doubtless,  but  handsome  within — so  we 
felt.  The  Lord  was  there  in  the  beauty 
of  his  holiness ;  and  his  presence  will 
make  any  place  beautiful.  As  for  the 
rest,  I,  for  one,  was  never  kept  awake 
o'  nights.  Rowland  Hill  once  said : 
"  Never  mind  for  the  hive ;  give  us 
the  bees."  I  give  joy  to  my  suc- 
cessors, my  brethren  beloved,  that 
they  have  the  hive,  and  the  bees,  and 
the  handsomeness  all  through  and 
around. 

In  those  times  of  old  there  were 
here  a  few  spots  a  little  steep  and 
rough  in  a  minister's  work.  One  was 
his  having  to  preach  two  sermons  on 
Fast  Days.  Another  was  his  having 
to  preach  two  sermons  on  Communion 


Anniversary  at  Amherst.       163 

Days,  administer  the  sacrament  at 
noon,  and — a  last  straw — attend  a 
prayer-meeting  in  the  evening.  And 
the  tired  toiler  betook  himself,  as  best 
he  could,  to  the  soothing  persuasion, 
"  Mollifying  Ointment,"  that  he  was 
obeying  the  -apostle's  injunctions : 
"  Make  FULL  proof  of  your  ministry," 
and  u  Endure  hardness  as  a  good  sol- 
dier of  Jesus  Christ."  Once  the  sug- 
gestion was  made  by  some  one  to  have 
the  Communion  Service  occupy  the 
afternoon.  But  there  was  opposi- 
tion to  this,  and  the  matter  was 
dropped.  It  was  the  "custom"  here, 
and  in  some  places  hereabouts,  and  cus- 
tom, you  know,  is  law,  and  law  is  law, 
and  what  is  not  law  is  something  else. 
"  Innocuous  desuetude "  had  not 
arrived  in  these  parts.  A  somewhat 


164      Anniversary  at  Anther st. 

of  the  strict  and  rigid,  you  will  say,  in 
these  things  of  the  olden  time.  Per- 
haps so  ;  but  possibly  the  pendulum  is 
now  swinging  to  the  other  and  not 
better  extreme. 

It  is  not  my  part  to-day  to  give  the 
history  of  this  church.  Another  will 
do  this.  But  I  may,  I  think,  and 
should,  refer  in  a  word  to  the  Revivals 
here  in  1841,  '45,  and  '50.  This  last 
was  a  work  of  marked  depth  and 
power.  The  incidents  and  influences 
leading  to  it  are  quite  instructive. 
Early  in  January  of  this  year  (1850), 
the  prayer-meetings  were  notably 
fuller  and  more  solemn.  A  cloud  of 
mercy  seemed  to  hang  over  us,  and 
ready  to  drop  down  fatness.  Days 
and  weeks  passed,  but  no  conversions. 
What  was  the  hinderance  ?  Once  and 


Anniversary  at  Amherst.       i65 

again  the  church  standing  committee — 
the  deacons — met  in  the  pastor's  study 
to  talk  and  pray  over  this  question. 
Oppressing  fear  was  felt,  lest  our 
dawn  should  shut  down  in  darkness. 
The  trouble,  we  came  at  length  to 
believe,  was  in  the  rum  places  in  the 
village,  with  fires  of  hell  in  full  blast. 
What  could  be  done  ?  My  counselors 
did  wisely  in  advising  prudence,  for  we 
were  told  the  rum  men  were  desperate. 
Kind  words  had  been  used,  but  availed 
nothing.  You  can  imagine  a  pastor's 
anxieties  in  such  an  emergency. 
March  Town  meeting  was  close  by.  I 
drew  up  two  articles,  and  obtained  five 
signatures,  asking  for  their  insertion  in 
the  warrant :  First,  to  see  if  it  be  the 
wish  of  the  town  of  Amherst  that  places 
be  kept  open  here  for  the  sale  of  intoxi- 


1 66      Anniversary  at  Amherst. 

eating  drinks,  in  violation  of  law ;  and, 
second,  to  see  if  the  town  will  author- 
ize and  instruct  their  selectmen  to 
close  such  places,  if  such  there  be  in 
the  town.  (I  quote  from  memory  and 
for  substance.)  I  went  to  Lieutenant 
Dickinson  of  the  South  Parish,  and 
Judge  Conkey  of  the  East,  and  Daniel 
Dickinson  of  the  North,  and  President 
Hitchcock  of  the  college.  They  all 
promised  to  give  a  helping  word — Dr. 
Hitchcock  to  speak  last.  The  meeting 
came.  Sweetser's  hall  was  crowded 
to  the  stairs.  There  was  much  excite- 
ment. A  man  from  South  Amherst 
moved  that  the  articles  be  dismissed. 
This  was  voted  down.  Then  the  main 
question,  and  now  the  speaking  as  pre- 
arranged— Dr.  Hitchcock  closing — 
and  a  more  affecting  and  effective 


Anniversary  at  Amherst.      167 

appeal  than  his  I  have  never  heard. 
He  said  in  substance  :  "  The  people 
of  Amherst  are  aware  that  I  have  not 
been  in  the  habit  of  meddling  in  the 
affairs  of  the  town.  I  feel  that  the 
interests  of  myself  and  my  family  are 
safe  in  the  care  of  the  town,  and  I  am 
confident  that  the  good  people  here, 
who  have  done  so  nobly  for  the  col- 
lege, will  not  allow  the  institution  to 
suffer  injuries  from  evil  causes  among 
us ; "  and  then,  with  an  emphasis  that 
fairly  choked  his  utterance,  he  added : 
"  But  it  were  better  that  the  college 
should  go  down,  than  that  young  men 
should  come  here  to  be  ruined  by  drink 
places  among  us"  Then  the  voting — 
four  hundred  hands  shot  up  for  abating 
the  nuisances — so  it  was  said.  Contra- 
ry minds — just  one  hand,  and  one  only 


1 68      Anniversary  at  Amherst. 

and  alone.  The  next  morning  at  ten 
o'clock  the  selectmen  went  to  those 
rum  resorts,  and  shut  them  up. 

Then  the  heavens  gave  rain — 
blessed  showers — and  there  was  a  great 
refreshing.  That  revival  work  con- 
tinued till  late  in  summer.  More  than 
one  hundred  and  fifty  professed  hope 
in  Christ ;  sixty-eight  persons  joined 
this  church,  on  profession,  on  one  day 
— August  ii.  Others  came  later; 
some  joined  elsewhere. 

I  cannot  let  this  opportunity  pass, 
without  expressing  my  very  great  obli- 
gations to  the  faculty  of  Amherst  Col- 
lege for  their  unvarying  courtesy  and 
kindness  to  me  from  first  to  last  of 
my  labors  here.  Fathers  and  brothers 
could  not  have  been  more  friendly  and 
helpful.  One  member  of  the  faculty, 


Anniversary  at  Amherst.      169 

Professor  William  S.  Tyler,  revered 
and  beloved,  is  still  spared  to  us ;  and 
my  best  impulses  prompt  me  to  say, 
that  a  kinder  heart  than  his  I  have 
never  found. 

It  has  providentially  been  my  fav- 
ored lot  to  minister  to  two  peoples, 
and  only  two,  in  the  Gospel  of  Christ. 
They  were  and  are  good  peoples.  I 
never  desired  any  better  peoples.  I 
never  sought  nor  desired  any  other 
peoples.  These  have  I  loved,  and  I 
love  them  still.  If  any  one  be  curious 
to  ask  which  of  my  two  peoples  I  love 
most  and  best,  my  instant  answer  is — 
both. 


REMARKS  MADE  AT  THE  ONE  HUN- 
DREDTH ANNIVERSARY  OF  THE 
FOUNDING  OF  THE  HAMPSHIRE 
GAZETTE. 

I  HAVE  known  personally  most  if  not 
all  of  the  editors  of  the  Hampshire 
Gazette  and  Gazette  and  Courier  for 
the  last  forty-six  years.  On  June  10, 
1840,  I  was  introduced  to  Mr.  Wm.  A. 
Hawley,  then  editor  and  proprietor 
of  the  paper.  I  knew  him  afterward 
somewhat  familiarly.  A  charming 
man  ;  gentle,  genial,  the  very  soul  of 
pleasantness  ;  of  sensibilities  tender  as 
a  woman's.  That  sparkling  eye  and 
sweet  smile  of  his — to  have  seen  them 
once  is  to  remember  them  forever. 
Too  soon  for  us  did  the  fell  destroyer, 
consumption,  pluck  that  flower. 


Remarks  at  Anniversary,      iji 

With  Mr.  Thomas  Hale  my  ac- 
quaintance was  slight.  In  January, 
1858,  I  read  to  him  some  jottings 
of  mine,  entitled  "  The  Old  White 
Meeting-House,"  which  were  kindly 
accepted  by  him,  and  printed  in  the 
Gazette  of  that  month. 

Mr.  J.  R.  Trumbull  was  for  some 
time  a  member  of  my  Amherst  congre- 
gation. I  have  kept  track  of  him  in 
years  since — have  seen  him  worked, 
and  worn,  and  wasted,  physically,  to  a 
thinness  too  tenuous  to  cast  a  shadow. 
A  very  able  and  acceptable  service  to 
the  public  has  been  rendered  by  him ; 
and  for  that  service,  and  for  his  intrin- 
sic worthiness,  this  city,  by  her  suf- 
frages, is  doing  him  deserved  honor. 
Long  live  Mr.  Trumbull  ! 

Then  the  Northampton  Courier,  be- 


172      Remarks  at  Anniversary. 

fore  its  merging  in  the  Gazette — not  a 
mustard-pot  falling  into  a  milk-pan — 
for  neither  paper  was  mustard  nor 
milk,  but  meat  for  strong  men.  Mr. 
A.  W.  Thayer — ardent,  open,  frank- 
spoken,  carrying  his  whole  soul  in  his 
face.  I  see  him  walking — those  infirm, 
unsteady,  straggling  steps,  almost  as 
if  about  to  surrender  him  to  the  floor 
or  pavement.  A  pleasant  man.  I 
thank  him  to-day  for  his  hand-shaking, 
and  for  his  kind,  encouraging  word 
spoken  to  me  as  I  came  down  from  the 
infinite  altitude  of  the  Old  Church 
pulpit,  as  that  pulpit  was  forty-five 
years  ago.  That  word  didn't  harm  the 
young  preacher — it  did  him  good — it 
braced  his  resolution  to  try  again. 

Mr.    Lewis    Ferry,    another   of   the 
worthy  editors,  was  of  my  Easthamp- 


Remarks  at  Anniversary.      173 

ton    parish.       I   attended    him    in   his 
decline  and  death. 

And  now  our  generous  friend  and 
host,  Mr.  Henry  S.  Gere.  I  cannot 
tell  how  many  years  the  Northampton 
press  or  presses  and  peoples  have  had 
his  toils.  Veteran  editor ;  and  veteran 
SOLDIER  also,  content  with  having 
served  his  country  as  best  he  could  in 
her  supreme  peril,  and  not  vilely  cast- 
ing away  his  shield  of  honor  afterward 
by  asking  for  a  pension.  In  stature 
proudly  eminent ;  yet  stoops  a  little, 
not  from  age  or  aches,  certainly  not 
from  fear  of  anybody,  but,  I  ween,  from 
work  and  overwork ;  patiently  plod- 
ding at  his  task  the  year  in  and  out,  to 
serve  and  please  and  profit  a  host  of 
intelligent  readers,  who  look  to  him 
and  his  work  as  a  sort  of  oracle  with- 


174     Remarks  at  Anniversary. 

in  his  line  and  sphere.  Plains  and 
valleys,  village  and  villa,  mountains 
and  all  hills,  echoing  with  carrier  bell- 
call  ;  and  such  ready  response  in  open- 
ing door  and  gate  to  bring  in  our  old, 
familiar  and  ever-welcome  friend,  the 
Hampshire  Gazette. 

Now,  these  men  of  the  Gazette  from 
first  till  this  present ;  men  good  and 
brave — always  on  the  side  of  the  true 
and  right — ready  unto  all  good  works 
— leading  men,  resolutely  and  worthily 
serving  in  town,  church,  parish,  and 
school  affairs,  as  well  as  in  their  more 
strictly  professional  sphere.  Tribute 
to  whom  tribute  is  due.  If  I  make 
any  exception  to  this  good  rule,  it  shall 
be  in  the  case  of  Mr.  Gere,  who  stole 
one  of  the  choicest  of  my  Easthamp- 
ton  flock  a  little  while  before  my  as- 


Remarks  at  Anniversary.      176 

suming  the  charge  there.     For  that  I 
never  thanked  him,  and  I  never  will. 

And  now,  turning,  if  I  may,  for  a 
moment,  from  the  men  of  the  Gazette, 
to  their  calling  and  work.  It  is  quite 
observable,  how  many  the  points  in 
which  two  of  the  leading  professions 
are  much  at  one.  The  editor  and  the 
minister.  The  press  and  the  pulpit. 
The  paper  and  the  sermon.  Sunday 
forenoon  and  Tuesday  afternoon. 
Both  callings  are  honorable.  Both  are 
powers  among  a  people.  Think  of 
14,000  newspapers  and  periodicals, 
sending  forth  two  and  a  half  billion 
copies  as  annual  aggregate  circulation 
in  this  our  land.  And  think  of  single 
presses  that  can  strike  off  24,000 
copies  an  hour.  What  a  mighty  en- 
ginery is  here  !  Seest  thou  a  man 


1 76      Remarks  at  Anniversary. 

defying  the  press  ?  Mark  him.  He  is 
already  upon  the  ragged  edge  of  des- 
peration. 

Both  callings  are  conservators  of 
good  ;  are  patrons  of  industry,  order, 
good  taste,  morals,  and  manners ;  of 
virtue,  knowledge,  temperance,  godli- 
ness— are  indeed  indispensable  to  a 
republican  and  Christian  civilization. 
Instance  the  Gazette's  staunch  advo- 
cacy of  the  Temperance  cause  week  by 
week.  And  the  Springfield  Republi- 
can in  its  splendid  fight  against  the 
rum-demons — Grog  and  Magrog,  de- 
vouring locusts  ;  ''and  they  have  tails 
like  unto  scorpions,  and  there  are 
stings  in  their  tails  ;  and  their  power 
is  to  hurt  men.  And  they  have  a  king 
over  them,  who  is  the  angel  of  the  bot- 
tomless pit,  whose  name  in  the  He- 


Remarks  at  Anniversary.      177 

brew  tongue  is  Abaddon,  but  in  the 
Greek  tongue  he  hath  his  name  Apol- 
lyon."  All  honor  to  the  Gazette  and 
the  Republican  for  their  noble  fight 
against  this  curse  of  curses.  So  of 
our  presses  at  large  ;  with  all  their 
faults,  they  are  still  a  terror  to  evil- 
doers, and  a  praise  to  them  that  do 
well. 

Both  callings,  the  editorial  and  cler- 
ical, demand  a  good  equipment  of  tal- 
ents and  culture — must  interest  all 
classes — must  be  educators  and  re- 
finers of  public  sentiment — must  re- 
prove and  rebuke — must  have  a  voice 
of  gladness  and  a  smile  for  everybody, 
and  some  others — must  have  their 
own  convictions,  and  the  courage  of 
them — must  be  fair  and  unbiased, 
without  partiality  or  prejudice — must 


12 


178      Remarks  at  Anniversary. 

not  take  sides  in  controversies  and 
quarrels — must  be  on  our  side  in  any 
event,  and  every  time. 

Both  places  will  have  plenty  of 
counsel  how  to  do  your  work,  and 
plenty  of  criticism  of  that  work  when 
you  have  done  it  the  best  you 
could.  Both  places  involve  an  inexo- 
rable constancy  of  exacting  toil.  Sun- 
day will  come,  and  Tuesday  will  come, 
and  must  be  prepared  for.  That  tired 
worker,  almost  collapsed  and  caved  in 
as  he  is  on  Sunday  evening,  or  Tues- 
day evening,  is  already,  quite  likely, 
boosting  himself  up  to  think  out  a 
something  seasonable  and  good  for  the 
next  issue  of  sermon  or  paper.  That 
constant,  patient,  plodding,  persistent 
toil — such  tax  and  levy  upon  brain  and 
nerve,  with  scarcely  so  much  as  a  let- 


Remarks  at  Anniversary.       179 

up  and  release  once  a  year  to  go  a-fish- 
ing.  Why,  even  our  fevers  are  mostly 
intermittent,  and  our  present  and  pop- 
ular malaria  deals  a  little  more  gently 
with  us  every  other  day. 

In  one  particular,  men  of  the  cloth 
have,  perhaps,  an  advantage  over  men 
of  the  quill  and  scissors.  Look  at 
that  editor  at  the  foot  of  one  of  those 
Hills  Difficulty,  which  he  has  to  get 
over  or  get  around.  I  see  him  sitting 
in  his  z^easy  chair,  with  clinched  teeth 
and  knit  brow,  pestered,  puzzled,  per- 
plexed, in  sore  quandary  what  to  do 
with  that  communication  which  some 
one  of  us,  aspiring  wights,  has  sent  in. 
To  print,  or  not  to  print ;  to  make  one 
mad,  and  stop  his  paper,  or  to  set  many 
wondering  what  in  the  world  the  editor 
could  have  been  thinking  of,  to  put 


180      Remarks  at  Anniversary. 

that  into  his  paper.  And  specially 
the  poetry,  wedding  and  otherwise — 
here's  the  rub.  Some  good,  some 
very  good,  if  you  please,  and  some — 
well,  perhaps,  not  equaling  Bryant's 
or  Longfellow's,  but  giving  a  certain 
jingle;  and  so  do  brass  bells  on  a  mule, 
dragging  a  pung  through  sleet  and 
slush.  Not  that  we,  the  sometime 
scribblers  for  the  press,  are  mules  ;  not 
by  a  long  way.  We  fling  back  the 
insinuation.  But  gently  and  softly 
here,  lest  you  throw  frost  upon  that 
blossoming  or  budding  nondescript 
ineffable  something,  named  GENIUS. 

What  manner  of  man,  then,  the 
editor  or  minister  must  be  ! — a  very 
bundle  and  jumble  of  incompatibilities 
and  impossibilities  rolled  together,  and 
rounded  into  a  human  personality  ! 


Remarks  at  Anniversary.      181 

On  this  anniversary  occasion  we  ten- 
der our  hearty  congratulations  to  Mr. 
Gere  on  his  place  and  position  as  to-day 
the  editor  and  proprietor  of  his  and 
our  Hampshire  Gazette — a  paper  count- 
ing and  crowning  to-day  its  Hundred 
Years  of  honorable  history,  and  giving 
promise  of  an  equally  honorable 
career  for  a  hundred  years  to  come. 


A  LEAF  OR  TWO  FROM  MY  NOTES  OF 
TRAVEL  FORTY  YEARS  AGO. 

APRIL  28,  1846. — Left  Fredericks- 
burg,  Va.,  at  6  A.M.,  by  steamer 
Planter,  down  the  Rappahannock  ; 
Baltimore,  Md.,  at  6  A.M.,  April  29. 
Hotel  on  Light  Street.  After  break- 
fast, went  to  Mr.  Rowe's,  on  Green 
Street.  Had  talk  with  Rev.  Mr. 
Snow,  a  boarder  there — Mr.  S.,  once 
minister  in  Whately,  and  afterwards  in 
South  Hadley  Falls.  Obtained  from 
him  a  note  to  Mr.  Johnson,  War- 
den of  Maryland  Penitentiary — this 
note  to  open  the  way  for  me  to  see 
Rev.  Charles  T.  Torrey,  a  prisoner 
there.  The  warden  a  polite  and 
obliging  official.  Mr.  Torrey  dying  of 


Notes  of  Travel.  183 

consumption.  The  physician  was  on 
the  ground,  and  readily  consented  to 
my  going  in.  But  first  I  must  open 
the  box  (large,  square,  paper  box)  con- 
taining the  shroud  in  which  Mr.  Tor- 
rey  was  to  be  laid  out.  I  carried  this 
to  the  prison  at  the  request  of  Mr. 
Snow,  as  it  was  thought  that  Mr.  T. 
might  not  live  a  day  longer.  Left  my 
charge,  after  opening  it,  in  care  -of 
warden.  Went  with  him  through  sev- 
eral massive  doors,  and  up  two  flights 
of  stairs.  Entered  at  last  a  long 
room,  evidently  designed  for  the  sick, 
there  being  a  succession  of  iron  pallets 
or  cots,  two  feet  high  from  the  floor, 
and  each  separated  from  its  neighbor 
by  hanging  screens.  Each  room  very 
narrow.  Passed  several  of  these  be- 
fore I  came  to  Mr.  Torrey's.  Recog- 


184  Notes  of  Travel. 

nized  him  instantly.  Same  fine  face 
and  expression — intelligence — refine- 
ment— decision ;  always  beautiful,  but 
never  more  so  than  now.  Peculiar 
expression  of  eyes,  which  were  con- 
sumptively bright.  Warden  asked 
him  if  he  remembered  me.  T.  said 
he  did.  We  were  in  Yale  College 
together.  I  had  last  seen  him  at 
Andover  Seminary,  on  a  visit  of  his 
there  in  '36.  He  had  studied  theology 
there,  and  was  at  that  time  pastor  in 
Providence,  R.  I.  Torrey  said  he  was 
glad  to  see  me.  Held  me  steadily  by 
the  hand.  I  alluded  to  his  feeble  bod- 
ily condition,  and  said  I  hoped  it  was 
better  with  his  soul.  He  smiled  and 
said,  "  Oh  !  yes."  I  asked  him  if  he 
suffered  pain.  He  replied,  "  No,  but 
little."  I  spoke  of  Judge  Dickinson 


Notes  of  Travel.  185 

and  Lucius  Boltwood,  Esq.,  noted 
abolitionists,  my  parishioners  in  Am- 
herst.  He  smiled,  and  said,  "  I  re- 
member them  well  ;  they  were  good 
friends."  He  added,  "There  is 
another  good  friend  in  Amherst,  a 
Dr." — he  hesitated,  his  brow  showing 
effort  to  recall  the  name.  I  said,  "  Dr. 
Gardner  Dorrance."  His  countenance 
lighted  up  as  he  quickly  replied,  "Yes, 
yes,  that  is  the  one."  I  spoke  of  Dr. 
D.  as  a  man  of  large  frame,  and  of  a 
soul  as  large.  He  smiled  almost  to  a 
laugh,  and  said,  with  great  energy, 
'•'Larger!"  I  spoke  of  the  proba- 
bility of  his  being  near  his  end.  After 
a  moment  he  replied,  with  great 
emotion,  his  chin  quivering  as  he 
answered,  "  Yes."  I  said  I  hoped  he 
was  happy  in  the  prospect  of  the 


1 86  Notes  of  Travel. 

release  here,  and  of  the  joy  beyond. 
He  said,  "Yes,  I  am."  I  said  I  hoped 
he  recognized  in  all  he  was  passing 
through  the  all-wise  and  good  ordering 
of  Him  who  chastens  whom  He  loves, 
and  makes  all  things  work  together  for 
their  good.  He  replied,  "  I  think  I 
do."  I  said,  "  If  we  are  children  of 
God,  then  all  is  well."  He  replied  with 
energy,  "  Yes,  indeed."  He  requested 
me  to  pray  with  him.  I  did  so,  kneel- 
ing by  his  cot — the  warden  uncover- 
ing, and  sitting  still  at  the  foot  of  the 
cot.  Once,  in  the  prayer,  Torrey  gave 
an  audible  response.  It  was  when  I 
prayed  that  Christ,  the  sympathizing 
Friend  and  Saviour,  would  manifest 
himself  to  him  in  his  loveliness  and 
glory.  After  prayer,  I  said  I  was 
afraid  I  had  stayed  too  long.  He 


Notes  of  Travel.  187 

answered,  "  Oh,  no  ! "  Said  he  was 
"  very  glad  I  had  called " — smiling 
the  while,  and  still  holding  me  by  the 
hand.  As  we  bade  each  other  good- 

o 

by  he  seemed  to  be  struggling  with 
emotions  that  didn't  find  utterance. 

Torrey's  room  was  well  lighted  and 
aired.  His  face  and  hands  were  clean 
and  white.  His  shirt  was  very  coarse 
unbleached  linen — prison  cloth.  Bed- 
clothes otherwise  not  particularly 
noticeable.  A  man — looking  like  a 
prisoner  —  was  in  the  room,  mixing 
medicines.  The  warden  came  with  me 
to  the  outer  gate,  and,  giving  me  his 
hand,  said,  with  evident  emotion,  "  I 
do  wish  he  were  away  from  here."  A 
man  in  Mr.  Torrey's  condition,  yet  so 
calm  and  resigned,  no  word  of  com- 
plaint— and  such  recognition  of  God's 


1 88  Notes  of  Travel. 

good  hand  as  all  in  all.  Leaving  the 
prison,  I  went  to  the  top  of  Washing- 
ton (Baltimore)  Monument,  and  jotted 
down  as  accurately  as  I  could  the 
words  and  incidents  of  the  prison  in- 
terview. Had  indescribable  emotions. 
Abhorred  slavery.  I  had  a  few  days 
before  seen,  from  the  dome  of  the  Cap- 
itol in  Washington,  a  gang  of  slaves, 
chained  or  tied  together,  and,  under 
an  overseer,  whip  in  hand,  going,  "  like 
dumb,  driven  cattle,"  to  their  daily 
task.  And  all  this  in  a  land  boast- 
ing of  freedom  and  equal  rights  !  I 
had,  five  years  before  this,  preached  at 
King  George  Court-house,  Va.  My 
brother  took  the  precaution  to  look  my 
sermon  over  carefully  before  I  went 
into  the  pulpit — (the  judge's  bench,  in 
a  court-house) — to  see  if  there  was  in 


Notes  of  Travel.  189 

it  anything  fatefully  anti-slavery ;  he 
very  kindly  wishing  to  ward  off  from 
me  any  likelihood  of  lynching,  and 
myself  also  having  no  special  desire 
for  that  sort  of  thing. 

Well,  well,  the  times  have  changed, 
and  we've  changed  in  them.  The  spot 
and  region  of  that  court-house  have 
since  been  overrun,  burnt,  and  black- 
ened by  both  armies,  the  Confederate 
and  the  Federal,  and  have  for  a  time 
since  been  little  better  than  a  howling 
waste.  And  slavery  itself,  abhorred  of 
God  and  man,  has  been  swept  from 
there,  and  from  the  land — torn  up 
and  rooted  out  by  the  very  means 
adopted  and  pursued  by  the  South 
to  spread  and  perpetuate  the  curse 
upon  the  nation,  North  and  South 
together. 


i  go  Notes  of  Travel. 

"  There's  a  Divinity  that  shapes  our  ends, 
Rough-hew  them  how  we  will." 

I  should  here  add  a  word  or  two 
respecting  Mr.  Torrey.  He  died  two 
or  three  days,  I  think,  after  my  visit 
with  him.  I  was  told  at  the  time, 
that  his  friends  from  Massachusetts 
petitioned  Governor  Pratt  to  allow 
Mr.  Torrey  to  be  carried  to  a  neigh- 
boring house,  and  die  there,  and  not 
within  prison  walls.  This,  within  a 
week  of  his  death,  and  after  the  physi- 
cian had  said  that  recovery  was  wholly 
out  of  the  question.  The  governor's 
reply,  as  reported,  was  :  "If  it  was  a 
case  of  murder,  I  would,  but  as  it  is,  I 
will  not ;  this  running  slaves  away  has 
got  to  be  stopped." 

As  to  Mr.  Torrey's  "  crime  : "  I  do 
not  know  the  reasons  of  his  going  to 


Notes  of  Travel.  191 

reside  in  Baltimore.  I  have  never  seen 
evidence  that  he  went  there  with  the 
intention  of  assisting  slaves  to  escape 
from  their  thralldom.  Two  slaves,  al- 
ready miles  on  their  way  of  escape, 
found  him  in  the  city,  and  asked  his 
aid.  Obeying  an  impulse,  springing 
up  from  his  long-cherished  hatred  of 
slavery,  he  took  the  two  men  into  a 
wagon,  and  carried  them  ten  miles  on 
the  way  to  Pennsylvania  and  freedom  ; 
and  they,  naturally  thinking  that  a  man 
is  himself,  and  that  his  legs  are  his  own, 
unpopular  as  the  doctrine  has  been, 
somehow  found  themselves  pushing 
toward  the  North  Star.  This  was  the 
whole  head  and  front  of  Mr.  Torrey's 
offending.  Nothing  more  or  else  was 
charged  against  him.  For  this  he  must 
languish  and  die  within  prison  .walls. 


192  Notes  of  Travel. 

Mr.  Torrey  was  buried  in  Mount 
Auburn  Cemetery,  Cambridge,  Mass. 
A  granite  column  marks  his  resting- 
place  in  a  beautiful  dell  not  far  from 
the  entrance  gate.  A  profile  of  him, 
cut  in  stone,  is  at  the  head  of  the  col- 
umn. The  figure  of  a  slave  is  at  the 
base,  his  face  turned  up  toward  the 
face  of  his  deliverer,  his  arms  also, 
and  from  them  are  chains  falling  to 
the  ground. 

Often  as  I  am  able,  I  go  to  that 
beautiful  cemetery — I  know  of  no 
other  the  equal  of  it  on  the  whole, 
though  I  have  been  in  many  of  the 
best — and  doing  so,  I  never  fail  to  visit, 
first  and  dearest  to  me,  the  grave  of 
my  martyr  friend,  Rev.  Charles  T. 
Torrey. 

I  may  add,  that  Mr.  Torrey's  wife 


Notes  of  Travel.  193 

was  Mary,  daughter  of  Rev.  Dr.  Ide, 
of  Medway,  Mass.  She  was  a  highly 
cultivated  lady,  and  survived  him  a 
few  years,  a  deep  mourner  over  his 
cruel  taking  off. 

A.  M.  C. 

EASTHAMPTON,  March  i,  1887. 


A  FEW  TOUCHES,  IMPRESSIONS,  AND 
RECOLLECTIONS  LESS  OR  MORE 
ACCURATE,  CONCERNING  THE 
MINISTERS  OF  THE  EDWARDS 
CHURCH  AND  PARISH  IN  NORTH- 
AMPTON. 

REV.  JOHN  TODD,  D.D.  He  was 
himself,  and  not  another,  and  not  much 
like  any  other.  It  would  be  difficult 
to  conceive  of  two  John  Todds  as 
inhabiting  simultaneously  this  mun- 
dane sphere.  Of  large  frame — loose- 
jointed,  not  so  closely  knit  and  com- 
pact as  some.  Strong  and  stalwart. 
Face  with  great  protruding  ridges  — 
and  'mountains  imply  valleys.  Lips 
prominent  and  compressed — as  much 
as  to  say,  "  This  thing  has  got  to  go, 


A  Few   To^lches,  195 

anyway."  Hair  bristling  and  stiff- 
perpendicular,  horizontal — every  way 
except  downwards.  His  head,  in  its 
whole  contour,  looking  not  a  little  like 
the  Charter  Oak,  with  its  branches 
scraggy  and  defiant.  And  yet  a  hand- 
some man,  if  handsome  is  that  hand- 
some does.  The  nuts  of  roughest 
bark  are  apt  to  be  of  sweetest  meat. 
Get  within.  Mind,  like  a  Corliss 
steam-engine — and  moving  any  num- 
ber of  wheels.  Of  multifarious  read- 
ing, and  for  such  reading  an  appe- 
tite omnivorous,  insatiable,  devouring 
every  green  thing,  and  digesting 
and  assimilating  the  same  ;  and  so, 
in  no  long  time,  out  it  came,  foliage, 
flower,  fruit,  some  truth  graven  in- 
effaceably  upon  your  memory  and 
heart.  As  to  his  will  and  purposes, 


196  A  Few   Touches. 

reminding  one  of  what  John  Foster 
ascribes  to  John  Howard — all  Johns 
— "an  untamable  efficacy  of  soul." 
And  an  affectionate  nature  withal, 
loving,  as  he  did,  every  good  body  and 
thine,  with  his  might,  and  loving  unto 
the  end.  Of  a  many-sided  nature — 
not  equilateral,  not  rounded  out  to 
fullness  in  all  its  parts,  but  more  com- 
plete in  some  parts  than  others — and 
where  on  earth  is  the  perfect  man  ? 
I  know  not  any.  In  simplicity  a 
child ;  was  taken  in,  cheated  many 
a  time,  by  the  sharper  than  he.  Not 
skilled  in  the  arts  of  diplomacy  or 
finesse.  He  was  artless  as  any  child. 
He  hadn't  the  training  nor  the  in- 
stinct to  untwist  all  the  small  knots 
in  a  Yankee's  head.  He  hadn't,  as 
some  have,  the  keen,  quick  sense  to 


A  Few   Touches.  197 

discover,  nor  the  care  to  know,  all  the 
hidden  springs  of  human  action.  He 
took  men  as  he  found  them,  not  bur- 
rowing in  the  dirt,  but  above  ground. 
He  was  not  a  trapper  nor  snarer.  He 
shot  birds  flying.  He  took  the  fox 
on  the  foot.  He  caught  the  fish  as 
it  came  along.  He  was  like  Nimrod, 
a  mighty  hunter ;  and  he  was  a  fisher 
as  well — a  fisher  of  men.  And  what 
a  prodigious  worker  !  exemplifying,  in 
his  own  life  and  labors,  what  I  remem- 
ber to  have  read  in  his  Student's 
Manual,  more  than  forty  years  ago, 
viz.,  that  you  cannot  have  too  many 
irons  in  the  fire  at  once — put  in 
shovel,  tongs,  poker,  everything. 
"Well,  John,"  said  his  college  and 
seminary  classmate,  as  they  came  out 
of  the  chapel  of  Andover  Seminary, 


198  A  Few   Touches. 

at  the  close  of  the  graduating  exer- 
cises— "Well,  John,  what  now  are 
you  going  to  do  in  the  world  ?  "  The 
answer  came  instantly,  "  I  am  going 
to  make  a  noise."  And  he  has  made 
it,  and  the  sounds  are  prolonged,  and 
will  never  die.  To-day  his  works  are 
read  in  a  score  of  languages.  Por- 
tions of  his  writings  were  found  among 
the  effects  of  Sir  John  Franklin  in  the 
Arctic  seas.  A  great  and  good  man — 
a  rare  man — take  him  for  all  and  all. 
Oh,  for  a  thousand  like  him,  to  bless 
the  church  and  the  world ! 

The  next  minister  was  the  Rev. 
John  Mitchell.  I  knew  a  something 
of  him.  I  met  him  in  one  or  two  of 
the  associational  meetings,  before  the 
association  was  divided.  He  was  the 
acknowledged  oracle  and  authority 


A  Few   Toitches.  199 

with  the  old  Hampshire  Association 
on  all  questions  of  church  rule  and 
government.  Of  infirm  health — pale 
— bland  and  pleasant  expression  of 
face.  Stooped  a  little .  in  walking — 
kept  his  eyes  on  the  ground,  as  if  in 
deep  study,  as  he  probably  was.  Was 
a  clear  thinker — carried  his  thoughts 
to  conclusions,  convictions,  principles. 
Carried  a  level  and  cool  head.  Was 
quite  conservative  in  his  opinions  of 
men  and  matters.  Wouldn't  have 
done  much  as  a  radical  reformer — had 
more  of  caution  than  of  push  and  dar- 
ing. Was,  I  think,  a  better  writer 
than  speaker.  Hadn't  the  physical 
force  to  throw  out  adequately  what 
was  upon  the  carefully  written  pages 
before  him.  A  very  instructive 
preacher  he  certainly  must  have  been. 


2OO  A  Few   Touches. 

An  excellent  counselor.  A  true  man. 
A  sincere  Christian — holding  the  faith 
in  a  good  conscience.  A  faithful 
minister — a  bishop  blameless.  He 
sowed  good  seed  here,  and  the  reapers 
will  be  gathering  in  the  harvest  of  it 
in  long  years  yet  to  be.  Judge  noth- 
ing before  the  time.  "  Stillest  streams 
oft  water  fairest  meadows,  and  the 
bird  that  flutters  least  is  longest  on 
the  wing." 

And  now  the  next  pastor,  Rev.  E. 
P.  Rogers,  D.D.,  as  different  from 
the  last  as  could  well  be  imagined. 
Bright-hearted,  healthy,  hale,  and  well 
met.  Handsome  in  form,  face,  feat- 
ures. Of  easy  and  graceful  manners. 
Ready  in  speech.  Had  on  his  lips  a 
pleasant  word  for  every  passer-by. 
Knew  everybody,  man,  woman,  child 


A  Few   Touches.  201 

— knew  them  by  name,  and  called 
them  all  by  their  names.  Never 
passed  people  in  the  street  without 
noticing  them.  Was  never  caught 
looking  on  the  sidewalk,  and  wrapped 
in  brown  study — never  that.  He 
would  have  made  a  poor  monk,  to 
wear  a  cowl,  and  be  silent  and  sullen. 
He  would  quickly  drive  the  moths  and 
spiders  from  that  cell.  "  The  stones 
would  cry  out  of  the  wall,  and  the 
beam  out  of  the  timber  would  answer 
it."  Think  of  Brother  Rogers  as 
thrust  into  an  inner  prison  at  mid- 
night. He  would  sing  those  prison- 
doors  open,  as  Paul  and  Silas  did. 
He  is  a  child  of  the  light  and  of  the 
day — a  good  man  and  a  good  friend 
to  meet  anywhere.  He  could  throw 
a  salutation  to  you  fifty  rods  with  the 


2O2  A  Few    Touches. 

utmost  grace  and  ease.  He  was  the 
cheerfulest  of  shepherds — a  quality 
too  rare,  but  a  power — specially  with 
children,  who  love  cheerful  folks.  It 
was  a  good  change  from  Mr.  Mitchell, 
who  in  his  way  was  perhaps  just  as 
good.  Parishes,  like  other  peoples, 
incline  to  contrasts  and  opposites.  It 
is  well,  else  they  would  get  their  ways 
into  those  ruts  which  are  a  hinderance 
to  good  wagoning,  as  wagoning  is  in 
this  world.  In  one  respect,  Brother 
Rogers  surpassed  any  preacher  I  have 
ever  known — viz.,  in  his  easy  and 
fluent  use  of  a  manuscript — reading 
as  if  he  didn't  read — catching  the 
words  by  glances  so  quick  as  to  leave 
you  in  doubt  whether  he  takes  his 
eyes  off  you  at  all.  And  he  has,  in 
admirable  degree,  that  quick  and  off- 


A  Few   Touches.  203 

hand  readiness  in  all  his  mind  and 
manners.  Bright-minded ;  cup  full 
and  running  over  of  the  oil  of  glad- 
ness. He  lives  on  the  south  side  of 
the  house.  Coming  from  Amherst, 
and  meeting  him  on  the  corner  of 
Bridge  and  Market  Streets,  at  a  time, 
many  years  ago,  when  incendiary  fires 
were  here  almost  every  other  night, 
I  said,  "  Brother  Rogers,  what  in  the 
world  are  you  coming  to  here  in 
Northampton?"  Quick  as  a  flash  was 
the  answer,  "  Coming  to  ashes,  as  fast 
as  possible."  Having  served  several 
churches,  North  and  South,  in  the 
good  work,  Dr.  Rogers  is  now,  and 
has  been  for  a  goodly  number  of  years, 
the  accepted  and  beloved  pastor  of  a 
large  and  influential  Dutch  Reformed 
Church  on  Fifth  Avenue,  New  York. 


2O4  A  Few   Touches. 

And  late    be    the    day    of    his    trans- 
lation ! 

Then  came  a  pastor  of  still  another 
pattern — Rev.  George  E.  Day,  D.D. 
A  still  and  quiet  man — scholarly,  and 
much  addicted  to  books.  Blameless 
and  harmless,  a  son  of  God,  without 
rebuke.  Loving  his  people,  and  loved 
by  them  all.  An  able  preacher,  bring- 
ing beaten  oil  into  the  sanctuary — 
sermons  that  had  cost  him  many  hours 
of  patient  study.  You  never  had  from 
him  a  crude  address.  It  would  have 
been  to  him  as  the  breaking  of  his 
bones  to  find  himself  closing  a  clumsy 
or  an  awkward  sentence.  Everything 
must  have  the  finishing  touch.  He 
was  not,  like  General  Taylor,  "  Rough 
and  Ready."  He  must  have  time  for 
perfecting  his  works.  He  wouldn't 


A  Few   Touches.  2o5 

have  made  a  great  Methodist — and 
that  people  are  of  the  best.  He  wasn't 
as  well  fitted  as  some  for  roughing  it 
in  out-door  work.  I  think  of  him  as 
carefully  searching  out  the  usages  and 
meanings  of  the  Greek  particles  and 
the  Hebrew  vowel-points.  The  mar- 
vel to  me  is,  how,  with  his  studious 
turn,  and  his  fondness  for  the  library 
and  its  attractions,  he  could  have 
served  this  people  so  long,  so  ably,  so 
efficiently,  and  so  acceptably,  in  the 
practical  and  every-day  duty  and  work 
of  a  Christian  minister. 

A  good  work  he  did  here,  and  a 
good  name  he  has  left  here,  and  the 
remembrance  of  him  is  fondly  cher- 
ished in  loving  hearts.  Enemies  he 
had  none ;  he  couldn't  have ;  it  wasn't 
in  him  to  make  enemies.  He  is  one 


2o6  A  Few   Toiiches, 

of  the  gentlest — one  of  the  Johns — a 
disciple  whom  Jesus  loves.  And  hav- 
ing done  his  work  well  and  worthily 
among  you,  whereof  you  are  witnesses, 
he  is  now  serving  the  Master  with 
equal  ability  and  acceptableness  in 
another  sphere  of  Christian  labor — as 
professor  in  Yale  Theological  Semi- 
nary. 

Well,  we  have  come  down  in  the 
succession  from  Adam  to  Enoch — 
walking  with  God,  but  not  translated— 
not  yet.  I  don't  care  for  the  number 
in  the  succession,  whether  seventh  or 
fifth  from  Adam.  I  was  thinking  how 
good  a  man  Enoch  was — that  was  all. 

Rev.  Gordon  Hall,  D.D.  I  shall 
not  say  many  things  concerning  him, 
to  his  face — things  I  would  say  if  I 
might,  consistently  with  sparing  his 


A  Few   Touches.  207 

modesty  and  blushes.  I  have  a  score 
against  him,  which  I  wish  were  cleared 
off ;  and  I  may  as  well  take  the  sweet 
revenge  now.  In  giving  me  the 
charge  at  my  installation  in  Easthamp- 
ton,  twenty-four  years  ago  last  March 
— both  of  us  standing  in  the  pulpit — 
Mr.  Hall  looked  at  me  over  his  spec- 
tacles with  his  sharp  eyes,  and  as  he 
spoke,  moved  his  head  somewhat  thus 
— .  My  little  daughter  in  the  front 
pew  down  there  went  to  weeping. 
When  asked,  on  arriving  at  home, 
what  she  cried  for,  she  replied : 
"  Because  Mr.  Hall  was  scolding  at 
father."  I  can  forgive  Brother  Hall 
that  one  offense.  It  isn't  in  him  to  be 
inflicting  wounds  on  anybody — not  if 
he  can  help  it.  A  thorough  scholar- 
Valedictorian  of  his  class  at  Yale  Col- 


208  A  Few   Touches. 

lege,  and  subsequently  a  tutor  there— 
a  graduate  from  Yale  Theological 
Seminary,  and  for  some  years  pastor 
of  the  church  in  Wilton,  Conn. — the 
native  home  of  Professor  Moses 
Stuart,  of  eminent  fame — Mr.  Hall 
came  here  thoroughly  furnished  unto 
all  good  works — prepared'  to  bring 
forth,  out  of  the  treasures  of  God's 
Word,  not  things  old  and  old,  but 
"things  new  and  old."  And  thus,  for 
a  quarter  of  a  century,  as  a  good  shep- 
herd, he  has  been  feeding  this  flock 
of  God — feeding  you  with  knowledge 
and  understanding.  And  not  feeding 
merely,  but  watching  over  you  in  the 
Lord — a  grand,  good  pastor,  teacher, 
counselor,  guide,  comforter,  and  friend. 
A  very  discreet  adviser ;  slow  to 
speak,  and  slow  to  wrath  ;  patient  to 


A  Few    Touches.  209 

wait  and  hear  any  side,  and  all  sides ; 
and  then  forming  and  giving  out  a 
judgment  which  is  about  as  sure  to 
be  right  as  anything  human  is  so. 
Preserving,  perhaps,  the  golden  mean 
between  McClellan's  caution,  and 
Sheridan's  dash.  You  never  find  him 
expressing  a  hasty  opinion  regarding 
an  important  matter.  He  thinks  once, 
twice,  three  times,  before  he  gives  you 
his  conclusion.  "  A  fool  uttereth  all 
his  mind  :  but  a  wise  man  keepeth  it 
in  till  afterward."  And  how  holily  and 
unblamably  he  has  behaved  himself 
among  you  ;  how  he  has  borne  you  on 
his  heart  and  in  his  toils — and  what 
rich,  ripe  fruits  have  here  been  grown 
and  garnered  for  your  profiting  and 
God's  glory ;  and  how,  under  his  min- 
istry, you  have  been  prospered, 
14 


2io  A  Few   Touches. 

exchanging  the  former  sanctuary  for 
this  one,  more  comely  and  convenient 
— and  how,  best  of  all,  this  church 
has  been  visited  from  on  high  with 
showers  of  blessings,  and  been  built 
up  a  spiritual  house,  to  offer  up  spirit- 
ual sacrifices,  acceptable,  well-pleasing 
to  God — all  this  is  known  to  you  and 
to  many,  who  rejoice  with  you  to-day 
—this  Silver  Wedding-day  of  this 
pastorate  here. 

A  twenty-five  years'  ministry  among 
the  same  people,  and  the  mutual  affec- 
tion between  pastor  and  people  never 
stronger  nor  fresher  than  to-day— 
never  more  radiant  with  all  brightness, 
and  redolent  of  all  sweetness.  Twenty- 
five  years — and  here  he  is,  still  at  his 
post,  watching  for  the  souls  of  the  men 
and  women  born  into  this  world  during 


A  Few   Touches.  211 

his  life  among  you,  and  marrying  the 
children  of  those  whom  he  baptized  in 
infancy.  Twenty-five  years — great  ad- 
vantage— time  for  the  growth  of  ac- 
quaintance, good  esteem,  and  confi- 
dence, telling,  better  than  words  can 
tell,  of  the  grand  beneficence  and  bene- 
fit of  a  permanent  ministry.  And  God 
grant,  if  in  his  good  pleasure,  that  the 
sacred  relation  may  yet  continue  a 
blessing  and  benediction  in  long  years 
to  come ! 

I  find,  on  looking  back,  that  I  have 
spoken  of  "  wouldn't  bes  or  have 
beens."  Dr.  Todd  would  not  have 
been  a  good  diplomatist ;  Mr.  Mitchell 
would  not  have  been  a  good  reformer, 
image  breaker  ;  Dr.  Rogers  wouldn't 
be  a  good  monk,  nor  Professor  Day 
a  good  Methodist ;  and  Dr.  Hall 


212  A  Few   Touches. 

wouldn't  be — well,  I  don't  know  what 
he  wouldn't  or  couldn't  be  and  do,  with 
God's  blessing,  in  any  line  of  Chris- 
tian and  ministerial  goodness. 

Twenty-five  years — and  what  a  hold 
Gordon  Hall  has  on  this  people  and 
the  people  of  this  region  !  I  am 
thinking  of  one  of  your  grand  old 
elms,  that  by  time  and  trial  has  struck 
down  deep  into  the  ground  its  thou- 
sand tough  and  stringy  roots.  Long 
may  he  be  spared  to  you,  and  late  his 
departure  for  the  skies.  So  shall  he 

"  Be  the  sweet  presence  of  a  good  diffuse, 
And  in  diffusion  ever  more  intense  ; 
"So  shall  he  join  the  choir  invisible, 
Whose  music  is  the  gladness  of  the  world." 


REMARKS  MADE  AT  THE  CELEBRA- 
TION OF  THE  CENTENNIAL  OR- 
GANIZATION OF  THE  WESTHAMP- 
TON  CONGREGATIONAL  CHURCH. 

MR.  CHAIRMAN  : — In  responding  to 
the  sentiment  you  have  assigned  to 
me,  I  regret  my  inability  to  charac- 
terize suitably  the  men  who  have 
labored  here  in  the  Gospel  ministry. 
My  knowledge  of  them  is  too  imper- 
fect ;  and  there  are  here  those  who 
knew  them  much  better.  Abler  tongues 
and  pens  have  done  them  reverence  ; 
and  their  praise  is  in  all  our  churches. 
Highly  favored  this  people  have  been, 
and  are,  in  respect  of  their  pastors  and 
teachers. 


214       Remarks  at   Centennial. 

Good  men  and  true,  every  one  of 
them,  from  first  till  now,  and  now 
also. 

And  able  men — educated,  studious, 
scholarly ;  wise  in  counsel,  and  excel- 
lent in  working — workmen  that  needed 
not  to  be  ashamed.  Father  Hale,  for 
example :  a  Yale  graduate ;  massive 
judgment  and  common  sense ;  clear 
and  cool-headed,  self-poised,  sagacious  ; 
knowing  perfectly  when  to  speak, 
and  when  to  be  silent ;  eminent  as  a 
peace-maker,  and  making  peace  in  all 
this  region. 

And  earnest  men  ;  staid  and  quiet, 
yet  with  fire  in  their  bones,  and  doing 
with  their  might.  Foster  and  Bissell  : 
with  a  force  and  fervor  eager  for  any 
good  fight  and  fray :  steam-engines, 
yet  well  controlled  ;  a  hiding  of  a 


Remarks  at  Centennial.       2i5 

power,  and  a  showing  of   it,   upon   fit 
occasions. 

And  pleasant  men.  Coggin  and 
Allender :  affectionate,  gentle,  cheer- 
ful ;  living  in  sunny-side,  and  leaving 
behind  them  fragrant  memories  that 
shall  long  continue  with  us, 

"  Embalmed  with  all  our  hearts  can  give — 
Our  praises  and  our  tears." 

Mr.  Drury,  when  preparing  for  the 
ministry,  taught  -in  my  native  Vermont 
town,  during  a  winter,  a  day-school 
and  an  evening  singing-school.  I  well 
remember  his  custom  of  closing  the 
singing-school  exercise  with  the  jubi- 
lant tune  and  hymn — his  favorite— 

"  Ye  tribes  of  Adam  join." 
With    those     early    impressions,     I 


216       Remarks  at  Centennial, 

cannot  now  think  of  him  otherwise 
than  as  a  very  pleasant  man  and 
minister. 

And,  not  least,  men  sound  and 
strong  in  the  Christian  faith.  In  this 
matter  Father  Hale  struck  the  key- 
note, and  his  successors,  in  their  sing- 
ing and  preaching  here,  have  strictly 
kept  the  time  and  tune.  "  But  here," 
says  one,  "  you  lug  in  the  old  cate- 
chism and  primer."  Well,  what  of  that? 
This  people  are  not  hopelessly  spoiled 
— not  quite — not  yet.  Doctrine  and 
dogma  :  the  terms  have  no  terror  to 
me.  And  if  any  man,  standing  on  this 
hill  of  Zion,  "beautiful  for  situation," 
think  men  die  of  the  Assembly's  cate- 
chism, let  him  look  around.  Men  do 
not  die  in  that  way,  nor  droop.  Some 
of  my  pleasantest  recollections  cluster 


Remarks  at  Centennial.       217 

around  that  old  and  venerable  symbol. 
And  some  of  my  queerest  and  quaint- 
est. I  well  remember,  in  my  early 
childhood,  being  a  good  deal  puzzled 
with  those  first  two  lines  in  the  primer : 

"  In  Adam's  fall 
We  sinned  all." 

"Sinnedall!"  What  sort  of  a  craft 
could  that  be  ?  I  may  be  told  that 
such  teaching  and  preaching  makes  a 
people  sour,  unsocial,  demure.  Not 
a  bit  of  it.  If  I  were  in  search  of  a 
man  who  carries  about  with  him 

"  wreathed  smiles, 
Such  as  hang  on  Hebe's  cheek, 
And  love  to  live  in  dimple  sleek," 

I  would  look  for  him  in  Westhamp' 
ton.  The  catechism  taking  the  juices 


218        Remarks  at  Centennial. 

out  of  a  man,  and  leaving  him  a  grim 
skeleton  or  a  dry,  hard  stick  ?  Beg 
your  pardon.  Just  look  at  Dr.  Dorus 
Clark  !  Bright  as  high-noon,  and  green 
and  fresh  as  any  amaranthine  flower, 
and  yet  an  octogenarian — and,  oh,  mir- 
acle and  marvel !  a  lover,  defender,  and 
advocate  of  the  Westminster  Assem- 
bly's Catechism  !  Will  wonders  never 
cease  ?  Sedate  and  sober-minded  this 
people  may  be,  but  not  glum  and 
moody,  not  fretful  and  peevish,  and 
creeping  into  the  jaundice.  "  Like 
people,  like  priest."  Did  a  mortal  man 
or  woman  ever  see  Rev.  David  Coggin 
mope  about  a  whole  day  in  sulks  and 
duskiness,  a  walking  mummy  ?  I 
trow  not.  "  A  merry  heart  doeth  good 
like  a  medicine."  This  people  have 
been  fed  with  "  food  convenient  " — 


Remarks  at  Centennial.       219 

with  knowledge  and  understanding, 
ministering  to  good  health,  heartiness, 
humor,  whole-souledness,  hospitality. 
Look  upon  these  tables  ;  eat,  drink, 
and  be  merry.  I  wonder  if  anybody, 
leaving  this  town,  ever  felt  in  him  the 
sensation  of  hunger  ? 

But,  really,  isn't  it  a  little  hard  to  be 
brought  up  on  such  fare — such  a  pro- 
portion of  doctrinal  preaching — for 
nobody  charges  that  the  practical  has 
been  left  out  in  the  preaching  here — 
and  the  true  practical  has,  and  must 
have,  its  foundation  in  doctrine.  The 
Irishman  didn't  succeed  in  building  his 
chimney  from  top  downwards.  True 
it  is,  some  men  are  weary  to  bear  these 
hard  doctrines,  so-called.  It  is  told 
of  the  old  minister  of  the  34th  Massa- 
chusetts Regiment,  that  he  sometimes 


22O      Remarks  at  Centennial. 

preached  a  whole  half-hour  on  the 
doctrine  of  predestination ;  and  that 
the  soldiers,  before  the  close  of  the 
service,  were  afflicted  with  such  dread- 
ful coughs  as  might  have  made  a 
stranger  fear  for  the  health  of  the  com- 
mand. That  will  do  for  a  war  legend  ; 
and  for  such  let  it  pass.  Soldiers  can 
be  brave,  and  believing,  and  blithe- 
some. In  1862,  that  blackest  time 
in  our  late  war,  I  heard  Rev.  Cap- 
tain Bissell — afterward  captain,  and 
since  doctor  of  divinity,  missionary, 
author,  and  what  more — say  that  he 
could  not  study  ;  that  he  was  aching 
in  his  very  bones  to  enlist  and  push 
to  the  front.  And  push  he  would  and 
did.  But  that  was  heroism,  not  hypo- 
chondria. 

"  Strong  meat  belongeth  to  them  of 


Remarks  at  Centennial.       221 

full  age."  This  the  people  of  West- 
hampton  have  demanded,  and  have 
had,  and  the  demand  and  supply  prove 
and  approve  each  other.  And  it  isn't 
going  much  farther  to  say  that  the 
people  here  have  demanded  sermons  as 
are  sermons — not  rambling,  off-hand 
talk.  Get,  if  you  can,  so  much  as  the 
conception  of  this  people,  sitting  Sab- 
bath after  Sabbath,  listening  delight- 
edly, or  even  patiently,  to  flippant 
volubility,  "  sound  and  fury,  signifying 
nothing."  No  ;  they  have  not  lived  on 
sea-foam,  and  snow-broth,  and  whipped 
syllabub.  They  have  had  better  fare, 
more  substantial  and  sustaining  and 
satisfying  —  the  "sincere  milk,"  and 
the  "  strong  meat  " — and  have  grown 
thereby.  The  written  sermon,  and  de- 
livered from  the  manuscript,  most  of 


222        Remarks  at  Centennial. 

the  time,  if  not  all  the  time.  The 
best  hours  and  the  best  thoughts  of 
the  week  through.  "  And  moreover, 
because  the  preacher  was  wise,  he  still 
taught  the  people  knowledge  ;  yea,  he 
gave  good  heed,  and  sought  out,  and 
set  in  order  many  proverbs.  The 
preacher  sought  to  find  out  acceptable 
words  :  and  that  which  was  written 
was  upright,  even  words  of  truth." 
You  may  liken  the  quill  or  pen  to 
the  Michigan  plough  ;  and  the  man 
using  it  in  patient  plodding  work  dur- 
ing the  week  "is  like  unto  a  man 
that  is  an  householder,  who  bringeth 
forth  out  of  his  treasure  "-—not  things 
old  and  old,  but  "  things  new  and 
old  ;  "  while  the  off-hand  extemporizer, 
ten  to  one,  is  shallow  and  superficial, 
scratching  the  surface  ;  or,  as  we. 


Remarks  at  Centennial.       223 

when  boys,  in  throwing  small,  thin 
stones  upon  the  water,  called  it — skit- 
tering. From  my  door  at  home  I 
have  often  looked  off  westward  and 
seen  the  glorious  sunset,  and  the  beau- 
tiful Westhampton  church-spire  peer- 
ing up  above  its  sylvan  and  green 
surroundings ;  but  I  have  not  seen  in 
this  quarter  any  pyrotechnics  or  fire- 
works, material  or  metaphorical  or  ora- 
torical. Some  men  may  tell  me  they 
spend  as  much  time  upon  their  ser- 
mons withoiit  the  writing  as  others 
do  with  it.  To  such  I  would  not  say 
bluntly,  "  You  lie  !  "  but  more  blandly 
I  would  put  it,  "  My  dear,  good  friend, 
I  very  much  want  to  believe  you ; 
I  would  if  I  could ;  but,  pardon 
me,  I  can't  and  don't."  All  honor 
to  this  people  and  their  pastors 


224        Remarks  at  Centennial. 

for    their    choice    and  custom  in  this 
matter. 

Forty  or  more  young  men  from  this 
little  Bethlehem  Judah,  getting  a  lib- 
eral education,  and  gone  forth  to  bless 
the  world  !  Come  the  wise  man  and 
the  scribe,  and  tell  me  how  this  is  ? 
How  otherwise,  than  through  a  Chris- 
tian church  and  a  Christian  ministry, 
in  long  and  bright  succession  —  min- 
isters, godly  men,  faithful  in  all  their 
house,  sound  in  doctrine,  pure  in  life, 
feeding  the  flock — the  sheep  and  the 
lambs — zealous,  prudent,  patient,  con- 
tented ;  loving  all  and  loving  much,  and 
highly  esteemed  for  their  works'  sake  ; 
"  as  unknown,  yet  well  known  ;  as  sor- 
rowful, yet  always  rejoicing ;  as  poor, 
yet  making  many  rich  ;  "  "  bringing 
many  sons  unto  glory,"  and  then 


Remarks  at  Centennial.        225 

themselves  receiving  the  glorious 
crown.  "  Happy  is  that  people  that 
is  in  such  a  case ;  yea,  happy  is  that 
people  whose  God  is  the  Lord." 


15 


READ       BEFORE       THE      CONGREGA- 
TIONAL  CLUB   AT   GREENFIELD. 

WHA  T  were  the  influences  or  agen- 
cies inducing  men  to  enter  the  minis- 
try a  generation  ago  f 

I  shall  not,  I  trust,  be  held  too 
rigidly  to  the  question.  There  is  a 
negative  side.  There  is  a  compara- 
tive view.  I  stipulated  for  freedom  in 
consenting  to  write. 

First  and  chief  of  those  influen- 
ces or  agencies,  Home  and  home  life  as 
then.  Parental  yearnings  and  train- 
ings. Children  not  turned  off  upon 
Sabbath-school,  as  the  manner  of 
some  is.  Parental  hearts  and  hopes, 
and  prayers,  that  one  of  the  many  chil- 


Read  at  Greenfield.  227 

dren  in  the  family — there  were  the 
many  in  those  days  —  might  be  a 
minister.  Mother  at  home,  her  seat 
and  throne,  best  university  in  the 
world ;  her  love  and  care  and  looks 
and  lips ;  her  high  hope  and  low 
whisper  that  little  towhead  Jamie  at 
her  knee  might  some  day  be  a  great 
and  good  minister.  A  half-dozen  such 
favored  homes,  and  then,  at  school 
near  by, 

"  A  little  bench  of  heedless  bishops  here, 
And  there  a  chancellor  in  embryo." 

Ambition,  say  you  ?  Put  up  thy 
sword  ;  also  thy  microscope.  We  are 
blessedly  human,  the  best  of  us  :  cer- 
tainly so  when  casting  in  our  hearts 
what  manner  of  man,  or  minister,  this 
wonderful  child  of  ours  is  to  be.  So, 


228  Read  at  Greenfield. 

anciently,  Hannah  lending  her  Samuel 
to  the  Lord.  Elizabeth,  hiding  her- 
self five  months,  and  keeping  up  the 
while  a  mighty  thinking.  Mary, 
keeping  all  these  things,  and  ponder- 
ing them  in  her  heart — and  perhaps 
she.  didn't  keep  them  very  closely, 
either. 

The  ministers  of  our  long  ago — 
whence  came  they  ?  Chiefly  from  the 
nursery  and  snuggery  of  such  Chris- 
tian homes.  Dedication  of  children 
to  God  ;  the  sign  and  seal ;  the  vows, 
and  prayers,  and  tears ;  parents  and 
children  together  in  the  same  cove- 
nant and  holy  bonds.  It  is  what  used 
to  be  heard  almost  invariably  from 
candidates  in  their  examination  for  the 
pastoral  office,  "  My  mother  said  and 
did  thus  and  so." 


Read  at  Greenfield.  229 

2.  Let  us  turn  now  from  the  home 
to  the  house  of  God.  Not  the  great- 
est distance  between.  The  preaching, 
a  generation  ago,  Gospel  preaching ; 
doctrinal,  practical,  plain,  pungent,  and 
pressed  home  :  a  something  that  set 
one  pondering  his  wicked  way,  an'd 
turning  from  it ;  that  went  to  the 
heart,  and  fixed  itself  there ;  that 
set  one  asking,  with  Saul  of  Tarsus  : 
"  Lord,  what  wilt  thou  have  me  to 
do?"-— that  made  a  man  take  and 
keep  for  his  motto,  Conscience  and 
Christ.  Those  great  preachers,  Fin- 
ney,  Nettleton,  Burchard,  Foote, 
Lindsley,  Humphrey,  Hewitt,  Hawes, 
Lyman  Beecher,  N.  W.  Taylor,  Ben- 
net  Tyler,  Thomas  H.  Skinner,  Joel 
Parker,  and  Edward  N.  Kirk — I  have 
heard  them  all,  and  do  well  remember 


230  Read  at  Greenfield. 

their  trend  and  drift.  The  sinner, 
self-destroyed,  ruined,  utterly  undone; 
himself  helpless,  and  his  case  utterly 
hopeless,  except  as  God  in  his  sover- 
eign, free,  electing  love,  may  see  fit  to 
reach  down  his  mighty  arm  and  pluck 
him  as  a  brand.  Sinai  first,  then 
Calvary.  There  was  the  dying  when 
the  commandment  came.  By  the 
terrors  of  the  Lord  men  were  per- 
suaded. Nettleton's  Village  Hymns — 
"  Awaked  by  Sinai's  awful  sound." 
The  storm  seen  gathering,  and  the 
fleeing  as  a  bird  to  your  mountain. 
The  sinner,  trembling  and  almost  de- 
spairing, and  driven  as  well  as  drawn 
to  seek  and  find  in  Christ  the  one  and 
only  Hiding-place.  Darkest  just  be- 
fore day.  Penitential  sorrow.  Bow 
on  the  cloud,  of  light,  indeed,  but  of 


Read  at  Greenfield.  231 

rain-drops  also.  The  drops  of  grief 
before  the  light  of  smiles.  The  law 
our  schoolmaster,  and  the  law-work 
thorough.  The  fallow  ground  broken 
up,  ploughed  deeply,  moistened,  made 
mellow ;  and  now  a  garden  of  spices, 
plants  of  righteousness,  strongest  vir- 
tues, sweetest  graces — humility  and 
holy  zeal.  Such  a  Rescue,  and  there- 
fore now  the  glad  and  thankful  con- 
secration to  God  and  his  service. 
None  the  less  in  those  days  the  invit- 
ing voices,  the  sweet  sounds — never 
were  sweeter — but  carefully  in  their 
due  place  and  order.  After  the  fire, 
the  gentle,  soft  sound,  as  Tholuck 
translates  it. 

Now    the     point    and    proof.       In- 
stance :  that  revival  in  Yale  College  in 
i  ;  the   depth  and    power,    the 


232  Read  at  Greenfield. 

passionate  longing  and  pleading  for 
pardon  and  peace  with  God  ;  and  such 
numbers — undergraduates,  tutors,  and 
law-students  —  devoting  themselves 
then  and  there  to  the  ministerial 
calling.  So  in  my  native  town  in  Ver- 
mont— seven  hundred  inhabitants — • 
revival  in  1826,  fifty  conversions; 
pungent  convictions,  great  search- 
ings  of  heart,  the  surrender  and 
rescue,  the  daring  to  hope,  the  still- 
ness and  chastened  joy  ;  and  of  those 
fifty  converts  seven  in  no  long  time 
were  found  in  our  academies  and  col- 
leges on  their  way  to  the  Christian 
ministry.  You  might  have  supposed 
the  good  issue.  It  is  in  God's  plan 
and  method.  It  is  a  deep  philosophy. 
It  is  plain  law  of  cause  and  effect.  It 
is  Scripture — loving  much  because  for- 


Read  at  Greenfield.  233 

given  much.     It  is  song — loving  Him 
who  first  loved  me. 

But  again,  3,  as  to  the  ministry 
itself- — the  high  estimation  in  which  it 
was  held,  and  of  which  in  good  part  it 
was  worthy.  In  more  senses  than  one 
the  calling  was  a  high  calling.  The 
pulpits  were  high.  The  minister 
was  the  eminent  man  among  a  people ; 
was  the  one  educated  man  among 
most  peoples ;  was  revered,  consulted, 
deferred  to  ;  was  oracle  and  umpire  ; 
held  the  fort  by  a  sort  of  divine 
right ;  was  called  a  divine  ;  was  divine, 
in  the  Unitarian  sense  of  divine; 
heard,  as  others  did,  the  high-sound- 
ing cymbals,  "venerandi  ac  reverandi" 
Something  of  a  prize  to  be  coveted, 
such  a  place  and  position  among  men  ; 
something  of  a  goal  of  honor  for  you, 


234  Read  at  Greenfield. 

perhaps,  if,  a  little  aspiring,  you  would 
attain  unto  what  Dr.  Cox  would  have 
called  "  the  height  of  conspicuity." 
Fortunately,  or  providentially,  rather, 
there  was  among  the  young  men, 
fresh  from  the  revivals,  the  experi- 
ences and  consecrations  we  have 
spoken  of,  a  piety  that  could  and  did, 
in  good  measure  at  least,  resist  the 
temptations  to  arrogance  and  pride, 
and  putting  on  of  airs — albeit  the  tin- 
sel and  trappings  of  an  earlier  time, 
the  knee-buckles  and  powdered  hair, 
those  prime  essentials  of  dignity  and 
gravity — not  to  say  sanctity — had  not 
yet  quite  faded  from  mortal  vision. 
The  Parson  and  Divine.  It  is  quite 
conceivable  that  a  good  man  and  hum- 
ble may  covet  earnestly  a  high  posi- 
tion as  affording  him  the  better  field 


Read  at  Greenfield.  235 

and  freedom  to  serve  God  and  his 
generation.  Certain  it  is,  the  young- 
man,  looking  to  the  ministry  in  those 
early  days,  was  regarded  as  worthily 
aspiring  to  place  himself  upon  such 
vantage-ground.  "  This  is  a  true  say- 
ing, If  a  man  desire  the  office  of 
a  bishop,  he  desireth  a  good  work." 
Channing  and  Emerson  agreed  in 
calling  the  ministry  the  finest  of  all 
the  professions. 

4.  The  ministry  in  those  days  was 
held  to  be  the  post  and  place  for  emi- 
nent usefulness.  If  you  want  to  do 
great  things  for  the  Master,  be 
a  minister.  Mr.  By-Ends  and  Mr. 
Money-Love  didn't  edge  up  to  you 
with  their  soft  suggestion,  that  you 
could  be  just  as  good  a  man,  and  do 
just  as  much  good  in  the  world,  in  some 


236  Read  at  Greenfield. 

other  sphere  of  life,  in  some  shorter, 
easier,  cheaper  means  and  methods — 
Christian  Associations,  temperance 
work,  Sabbath-school,  and  personal 
effort.  There  were  not  then  these 
open  doors,  or  they  were  not  known* 
and  recognized  as  now.  William  E. 
Dodge,  cultivating,  as  he  has  done,  a 
vast  and  varied  field  of  Christian  ac- 
tivities, would,  in  the  earlier  time,  have 
been  looked  upon  as  little  better  or 
.other  than  a  picturesque  anachronism 
— out  of  time,  place,  propriety,  proph- 
ecy, or  possibility — a  somewhat  of  a 
sort  with  the  man's  conjecture  that,  in 
killing  Abel,  Cain  must  have  obtained 
from  Hartford,  Conn.,  one  of  Colt's 
revolvers.  No.  Instead,  one  highway, 
cast  up  and  prepared,  a  royal  road,  a 
king's  highway  for  you,  if  you  would 


Read  at  Greenfield.  237 

work  and  win — strike  for  the  goal  and 
the  prize — be  a  minister  and  preach 
the  Gospel. 

Well  now,  a  young  Christian  in  the 
early  time  ;  his  conscience  and  conse- 
cration and  good  impulse.  Can  he 
attain  to  the  sacred  office  ?  Should 
he  attempt  it  ?  Some  things  will  ever- 
more seem  adverse ;  perhaps  strait- 
ened means  ;  state  of  family  ;  time  of 
life ;  long  toil  of  preparation ;  long 
waiting  ;  perhaps  lady  waiting  ;  advice 
to  the  contrary ;  uncertainty  of  suc- 
cess ;  burdens  of  work  and  care  in  the 
ministry;  impulse  to  cut  across  lots,  or 
climb  up  some  other  way — some  one 
or  more  of  these  ready  at  all  times  to 
hinder  and  dissuade. 

i.  Wanted  then,  as  ever,  an  edu- 
cated ministry. 


238  Read  at  Greenfield. 

2.  Such    education,    at    the    easiest, 
costs  not  a  little. 

3.  By  far  the  greater  number  in  the 
ministry  and  adorning  it  are  not  from 
the  rich — there  were  not  the  rich  then 
as  now — but  from  families  of  humbler 
means, — perhaps  no  means  at  all,    ex- 
cept their  riches  in  Christ.      It  has  al- 
ways been  so,  and  will  be  in  this  land. 

Now,  our  young  aspirant  of  forty  or 
fifty  years  ago.  Many  things  favored 
his  wish  and  choice.  Parents  will  toil 
and  economize  to  carry  their  dear  boy 
through  and  up  to  a  place  so  honora- 
ble, useful,  and  sure..  The  Education 
Society,  a  new  thing  and  admirable, 
with  Dr.  Cornelius  and  Professor  B. 
B.  Edwards,  rare  men,  with  magnetic 
force  to  push  its  work,  brings  its  offers 
and  appeals,  and  throws  into  the  ques- 


Read  at  Greenfield.  239 

tion  a  moral  and  material  weight 
which,  all  things  considered,  it  has 
not  done  since,  nor  can  again.  Ex- 
pense of  education  comparatively 
small.  Boy  and  family  have  not  been 
frightened  at  hearing  of  college  clubs 
and  crews  and  contests,  journeys,  re- 
gattas, class-suppers,  and  secret  socie- 
ties, etc. — those  abominations  that 
make  desolate.  The  times,  not  of 
telegraphs  and  rushing  haste,  but 
more  patient  and  plodding,  slow  and 
sensible.  Ten  years  not  then  so  very 
long  a  time  for  getting  ready  to 
preach.  Boy  from  plough,  loom,  or 
anvil,  in  happy  ignorance  of  luxurious 
living  ;  had  never  crossed  the  Plain  of 
Ease,  nor  seen  Vanity  Fair,  except 
in  Bunyan.  Boy  inured  to  toil, 
and  could  endure  hardness.  William 


240  Read  at  Greenfield. 

Goodell,  on  foot  from  Templeton  to  An- 
dover,  with  trunk  strapped  to  his  back, 
thereby  gaining  his  bent  form,  a  mark 
of  honor  which  he  could  well  afford  to 
carry  with  him  through  life,  as  good 
old  Jacob  could  his  lameness,  after 
having  beaten  that  angel  at  wrestling. 
Boy  and  family  have  not  had  their 
eyes  dazzled  to  blindness  by  visions  of 
sudden  wealth.  Boy  and  family  have 
not  had  their  zeal  frozen  nor  chilled 
by  scepticisms,  suggesting  doubts 
whether  this  much  ado  about  saving 
men  in  the  present  life  and  present 
probation,  be,  after  all,  so  needful  and 
wise.  Haven't  heard  disheartening 
talk  about  the  exacting  demands  of 
the  age — how  a  minister  must  under- 
stand all  mysteries,  must  know  every- 
thing, and  be  everything  and  every- 


Read  at   Greenfield.  241 

where  —  must  be  Stuart,  Woolsey, 
McCosh,  and  Chadbourne,  all  in  one 
— pastor,  teacher,  and  evangelist,  all 
in  one.  Haven't  heard  a  hue  and  cry 
about  a  surplus  of  ministers — a  cry 
eagerly  caught  up  in  a  later  day,  and 
sounded  along  the  tribes  from  Be'er- 
sheba  even  unto  Dan  :  a  great  multi- 
tude of  impotent  folk  at  the  Pool  of 
Bethesda,  or  at  a  ministerial  bureau  of 
Boston,  waiting  for  an  angel  to  come 
down  and  put  them  in ;  or,  a  trial 
almost  as  humiliating,  the  walking 
through  dry  places,  seeking  rest,  and 
finding  none.  Haven't  read  the  para- 
ble, how  sixty  men  took  cars  from 
Springfield  for  Boston ;  got  out  at 
each  of  twelve  stations,  and  were 
counted  over  again — the  same  sixty, 
every  time — and  how,  on  arriving  at 

16 


242  Read  at  Greenfield. 

Boston,  the  identical  sixty  had  become 
seven  hundred  and  twenty — a  great 
surplus  of  ministers !  Haven't  seen, 
week  after  week,  a  Monday's  New 
York  daily,  showing  how  pestered 
and  puzzled  and  perplexed  a  score  of 
ministers  have  been  to  find  or  frame  a 
something  to  preach  upon,  and  enter- 
tain, and  draw;  and  how,  in  their 
straits,  they  did,  yesterday,  preach 
science,  ethics,  esthetics,  culture,  the 
most  advanced  thought,  marriage  and 
divorce,  sphere  of  woman,  moral  re- 
forms, evolution,  every  thing,  almost, 
except  the  Gospel  of  God's  love  and 
grace  to  dying  men — or,  as  Mrs.  Part- 
ington  has  it,  "  Dispensed  with  the 
Gospel."  And,  finally,  the  boy  and 
friends  haven't  been  told,  to  their 
amazement,  that  the  average  time  of  a 


Read  at  Greenfield.  243 

minister  in  one  place  and  pastorate  is 
about  three  and  a  half  years  ;  then  the 
breaking  up,  and  tearing  up,  and  a 
removal  to — who  shall  tell  him  where  ? 

No.  The  boy  in  those  days,  and 
yearning  to  preach  the  Gospel,  was 
happily  exempt  from  most  of  these 
and  the  like  dissuasives.  The  aspects 
and  prospects  were  brighter — in  these 
regards  at  least.  There  were  not  seen 
in  those  days  these  so  many  things  of 
a  contrary  part  to  dampen  and  depress 
a  youthful  and  Christian  ardor. 

Boy  up  there  at  his  Vork,  and  with 
his  theme  and  hope  :  and  so  he  walks 

"  in  glory  and  in  joy 
Behind  his  plough  upon  the  mountain  side." 

He  is  thinking — thinking  what  to  do 
— what  he  can  and  ought.  He  can 


244  Read  at  Greenfield. 

think.  The  isolation  and  stillness  help 
him.  He  is  not  interrupted,  and 
thrown  off  the  track  on  both  sides  at 
once.  He  hears  no  railroad  whistle. 
He  sees  no  excursion  train.  He  is 
not  diverted  to  day-dreams  about 
sociables  and  suppers  and  picnics, 
and  festivals  and  concerts  and  lect- 
ures. He  can  think  on  and  clear 
through  to  resolve.  "  Stillness  ! "  But 
there  is  music ;  the  air  is  full  of  it. 
Electrical  currents,  inspiration,  up-lift, 
impulsion.  Those  wonderful  revivals, 
and  their  baptism  upon  him.  And 
missions,  new,  strange,  wonderful. 
And  Macedonian  cries,  and  glad  re- 
sponses to  them.  The  mountains  la- 
bored, and  brought  forth  men  and  'mis- 
sionaries :  Pliny  Fisk  of  Shelburne, 
Jonas  King  of  Hawley,  William 


Read  at  Greenfield.  245 

Goodell  of  Templeton,  and  other 
Christian  heroes,  of  like  precious  faith. 
The  spectacle,  as  then  looked  upon  : 
young  men  taking  their  lives  in  their 
hands,  bidding  farewell  to  kindred  and 
country,  cheerfully  consenting  to  bear 
all  the  great  perils  and  privations  of  a 
life  in  heathen  lands,  and,  not  least, 
never  to  return,  never,  no,  never.  And 
the  Calebs  were  heard  saying,  "  Let  us 
go  up  at  once,  and  possess  it  ;  for  we 
are  able  to  overcome  it."  Peter  Par- 
ker for  China  ;  and  the  walls  there  to 
fall  immediately,  were  they  not,  as 
those  of  Jericho  had  done.  That  grand 
man,  Rev.  Leonard  Bacon,  as  you 
might  have  seen  and  heard  him  fifty 
years  ago.  Look  into  his  face,  shin- 
ing as  it  had  been  the  face  of  an  angel, 
while,  in  notes  almost  divine,  he  sings  : 


246  Read  at  Greenfield. 

"  See  the  glory-beaming  star. 

Traveller  !  yes,  it  brings  the  day, 

Promised  day  of  Israel." 

Hear  Dr.  Griffin,  closing  his  mis- 
sionary sermon  with  ecstasies  and 
transports  : — "  I  see,  I  see,"  etc.,  and 

"  Earth  rolls  the  rapturous  hosanna  round." 

Had  not  the  millennium  already 
dawned  ? 

The  situation  as  then  ;  the  field,  the 
calls.  Would  not  the  young  man, 
loving  and  yearning,  and  come  to  the 
kingdom  at  such  a  time,  respond, 
Here  am  I;  send  me?  I  think  he 
would.  I  think  he  did. 

May  an  old  man,  in  closing,  say  a 
word  personal  to  himself  ?  The  min- 
isterial brethren — I  love  them  more 


Read  at  Greenfield.  247 

and  more  as  the  years  come  and  go, 
and  more  highly  esteem  them  for  their 
worth  and  work's  sake.  If  I  might  go 
back,  and  choose  my  way  of  life  again, 
I  would  choose  the  Christian  ministry, 
as  preferable  by  far  to  anything  else 
this  world  could  offer  me.  I  should 
like  right  well  to  do  my  life-work  over 
again,  and  would  do  it  better  next 
time,  God  helping  me.  I  think  I 
would. 


FIRST  LETTER  FROM   THE    ISLES  OF 
SHOALS. 

APPLEDORE  HOUSE, 
ISLES  OF  SHOALS,  N.  H.,  July  23,  1879. 

SOMETHING  of  a  transition  from 
northwestern  Vermont,  on  Lake  Cham- 
plain,  to  this  island,  east  from  main- 
land, out  on  the  sea.  And  how  to  get 
here.  Take  cars  at  Boston,  on  the 
Eastern  Railroad ;  two  hours'  ride, 
through  Chelsea,  Revere,  Lynn,  Bev- 
erly, Ipswich,  Rowley,  Newburyport, 
and  Hampton,  N.  H.,  to  Portsmouth  ; 
then  a  steamer,  ten  miles  east  by 
southeast  into  the  ocean,  and  you 
are  landed  on  this  island  of  rocks — 
the  largest  of  several  equally  rocky. 


Isles  of  Shoals.  249 

Odd  place,  you  say ;  and  so  it  is. 
Rocks  to  grass  as  ten  to  one.  One 
hundred  acres,  and  upon  them  four 
calves,  and  not  a  sheep.  The  tradi- 
tional New  Hampshire  sharpening  of 
the  sheeps'  noses  would  hardly  keep 
the  creatures  here  above  starvation. 
No  sea-beach  here ;  the  huge  waves 
beat  against  the  ledges.  No  surf  sea- 
bathing here — water  too  cold.  There 
is  somewhat  of  ^'//-water  bathing  in 
two  large  ponds.  Into  these  the 
water  at  high  tide  is  let  in,  and  is 
then  kept  in,  by  closing  of  gates,  as  in 
the  locks  of  a  canal,  till  the  water  is 
sufficiently  sun-warmed  for  bathing. 

You  are  ready  to  ask,  What  is  there 
here  to  attract  visitors  from  city  and 
country?  Very  much — specially  to 
those  seeking  health  and  invigoration. 


250  Isles  of  Shoals. 

The  sea  all  around — "mighty  mon- 
archy of  waters  " — the  tonic  breezes, 
the  coolness,  the  wildness,  the  waves, 
and  the  fishing ;  and  this  last, 
you,  Mr.  Editor,  would  very  likely 
place  at  the  head  of  the  list.  One 
more,  and  chief  of  the  attractions  to 
many,  a  finer  Hotel  than  can  be  found 
elsewhere  on  or  near  these  eastern 
shores.  Kept  by  the  Laighton  Broth- 
ers, who  were  trained  to  the  busi- 
ness, and  inherited  the  property,  the 
island  entire,  from  their  father,  who 
died  several  years  since.  This  Hotel, 
besides  cottages,  has  three  main 
buildings,  the  largest  in  the  centre,  all 
in  range,  separated  by  narrow  spaces 
laterally,  and  united  in  front,  west- 
ward, by  a  common  and  continuous 
piazza,  five  hundred  feet  long.  The 


Isles  of  Shoals.  251 

dining-hall  will  seat,  comfortably,  four 
hundred  at  once.  It  is  a  first-class 
house,  and  will  compare  favorably,  as 
to  table  and  its  appointments,  with  the 
"  United  States"  and  "Grand  Union  " 
in  Saratoga.  You  would  say  so,  were 
I  to  send  you  a  bill  of  fare.  Prices 
nearly  the  same  in  this  as  in  those. 
Buildings  not  so  gorgeous,  yet  quite 
sightly  and  comfortable.  Best  of  beds 
and  bedding.  Sixty  rocking-chairs  on 
front  piazza,  besides  one  in  each  bed- 
room. Abundance  of  sofas  for  loung- 
ing and  lolling.  A  full  complement 
and  variety  of  fixings  and  furnishings 
for  ease,  comfort,  pleasure,  and  profit, 
also,  if  you  will.  Bible  in  every  bed- 
room. Billiard-saloon,  bowling-alley, 
ball-room,  band  of  music,  and  bar — 
this  last  in  the  rear  basement.  I  have 


252  Isles  of  Shoals. 

not  seen  it,  please.  There  is,  I  think, 
very  little  of  rum-drinking  here.  I 
have  seen  none,  nor  the  effects  or 
signs.  The  island  lies  off  against 
both  Maine  and  New  Hampshire,  and 
as  to  liquor-laws,  is,  perhaps,  amenable 
to  neither.  The  rooms  are  generously 
supplied  with  books.  Newspapers, 
writing-desks,  paper  and  envelopes, 
all  free,  and  as  much  as  you  will. 
Theatre  and  concert-room,  chapel 
and  hymn-books.  No  expense  spared. 
No  pinching  of  image  and  super- 
scription out  of  a  penny.  No  at- 
tempt to  solve  the  problem  of  how 
much  to  get  from  how  little  of  giving, 
or  how  to  fleece  most  with  feeding 
least.  The  most  courteous  and  oblig- 
ing of  landlords,  intent  to  meet,  and, 
if  possible,  anticipate  your  every 


Isles  of  Shoals.  253 

want  or  wish.  Servants  and  service 
in  the  dining-room  the  best.  Small 
table,  and  a  trained  waiter  at  each. 
The  two  head-waiters  young  men,  the 
rest  Yankee  girls — the  comeliest-look- 
ing  set  to  be  found  in  any  dining- 
room  in  America,  so  says  my  neighbor 
mess-mate  enthusiastically  and  truth- 
fully. And  you  would  say  it.  I  didn't 
mention  card-tables  and  playing. 
While  I  am  writing  this,  a  dozen  men 
— United  States  Senator  Thurman,  of 
Ohio,  so  likely  to  be  our  next  president, 
perhaps,  among  them — are  playing  at 
whist  in  the  room  next  me.  We  have 
a  steamer  from  Portsmouth  twice  a 
day,  bringing  mails  from  Boston,  New 
York,  etc.  To  find  yourself,  of  an 
evening,  reading  the  New  York  morn- 
ing papers  of  the  same  day,  away  so 


254  Isles  of  Shoals. 

far  down  east  on  the  great  and  wide 
sea !  What  marvels  !  What  a  contrast 
to  things  old  and  vanished  !  The  first 
mail-carrier  between  Washington  and 
Boston  was  placed  under  bonds  to 
achieve  the  distance  in  fourteen 
days !  Now  the  pace  of  as  many 
hours  is  too  lax  and  lagging.  Shall  a 
man  yet  come  to  be  so  hasty  and  swift 
as  to  run  away  from  his  shadow  and 
himself  ? 

And  our  company,  at  this  hotel,  now 
three  hundred.  They  are  from  far 
and  near — St.  Louis,  Chicago,  Phila- 
delphia, New  York,  and  many  another 
place.  They  are  of  the  choicest.  The 
solid  men  of  Boston  are  here  in  large 
force,  representing  millions  in  wealth 
— solid  men  and  solid  women — the 
latter  specially  so,  some  of  them 


Isles  of  Shoals.  255 

freighting  into  the  hundreds.  The 
Boston  ton  and  upper-crust  are  here — 
real  gentle-folk  —  courteous,  affable, 
simple  and  natural  in  mien  and  man- 
ner; no  starchiness  and  "stuck  up," 
and  putting  on  of  airs,  as  in  the 
Saratogian  shoddy  from  New  York. 
Dresses  plain.  No  long  trains,  either 
of  cars  or  clothes.  Dress  as  you 
please.  Free  and  easy.  Never  a 
more  agreeable  set.  The  coarse  and 
rough,  the  pushing  and  pretentious, 
are  not  here.  Would  they  were  no- 
where. 

We  have  preaching  services  on  Sab- 
bath, the  last  by  Dr.  Peabody,  of 
Harvard  University.  He  gave  us  an 
excellent  discourse.  Nearly  all  the 
visitors  were  in  attendance.  Do  you 
ask  how  we  while  away  the  time  ? 


256  Isles  of  Shoals. 

Plenty  of  ways.  Now  the  band. 
Now  songs  by  the  best  Boston  voices. 
Now  a  ramble  on  the  rocks,  and  then 
a  sitting  on  the  water's  edge,  to  see 
the  monster  waves  swell  and  surge 
and  break  at  your  feet,  and  the 
whitening  sails  off  at  sea.  And,  in 
the  evenings,  to  look  off  landward, 
and  see  the  government  light-houses 
on  a  long  stretch  of  shore.  And  then 
the  chat  and  stories,  and  the  arrival  of 
steamer  with  mail,  and  letters  from 
home,  and  papers  ;  and  the  evening  in 
your  room,  and  reading  by  best  of 
gaslight ;  and  the  breakfasts  and  din- 
ners and  teas  ;  and  then  —  speak  it 
softly  —  the  splendid  fishing,  and 
plenty  of  luck  !  Have  been  out  at  it 
two  forenoons.  Am  not  an  expert, 
but  can  lose,  my  bait,  and  get  the  hook 


Isles  of  Shoals.  .267 

into  my  fingers,  and  miss  getting  the 
fellow  up  and  out,  as  fast  and  often  as 
the  very  adepts.  And  the  sun  and 
these  winds,  to  put  a  new  face  upon 
you,  for  better  or  worse  —  mines 
several  shades  nearer  to — well,  I  will 
not  slander  the  Africans,  nor  the 
Indians,  either.  Every  one  in  his  own 
order  and  color — Mr.  White,  Mr. 
Brown,  Mr.  Purple,  Mr.  Beach,  and 
myself  just  now  somewhere  in  "the 
middle  extreme."  I  don't  like  fishing. 
It  involves  the  giving  of  too  much 
needless  and  profitless  pain  to  creat- 
ures that  won't  harm  you,  and  can't 
resent  nor  protest.  I  am  ready  to  say 
of  fishing  for  mere  sport  as  Cowper 
says  of  hunting : 

"  Detested  sport, 

That  owes  its  pleasure  to  another's  pain." 
17 


258  Isles  of  Shoals. 

If  I  wanted  the  food,  that  might  ex- 
cuse. I  do  not  read  that  Peter  and 
Andrew  fished  for  the  fun  of  it.  And 
they  used  the  net,  and  not  the  hook. 
Sentimentalism  !  some  one  says.  Let 
him  say  it.  "  I,  also,  will  give  mine 
opinion." 

You  may  think  we  suffer  here  from 
the  cold.  No,  sir.  Over-coat  in  morn- 
ings, if  needs  be,  with  exercise,  and 
good  wood  fires  in  open  grates  in  half 
the  evenings.  Out  in  the  open  air 
freely,  with  or  without  head-gear,  and 
clad  less  warmly  or  more,  and  yet  not 
one  among  all  the  three  hundred 
guests  has  a  cold.  The  salt  air  ac- 
counts for  this.  You  couldn't  begin  to 
bear  the  equal  exposures  on  land  with 
the  like  impunity.  The  air  is  bracing. 
You  must  stir  about.  No  one  here 
complains  of  the  cold.  No  one  is  set 


Isles  of  Shoals. 


to  shivering  and  teeth-chattering,  or  is 
thrown  into  the  slough  of  "  Oh,  dear 
suzzes."  Marvellous  stories  are  told 
of  the  health-lifting  here  in  some  in- 
stances. Six  pounds  gained  in  one 
week  by  an  in-landsman  who  came 
here  a  week  ago,  pale,  stooping,  and 
wheezing  heavily.  Bethesda  —  but  the 
pool  is  larger. 

One  week  here.  We,  brother  and 
myself,  propose,  D.  V.,  to  start  a  week 
from  to-morrow  for  a  week  at  Nan- 
tucket,  not  for  a  better  place,  but  for 
another  and  variety,  and  soon  home, 
we  hope  —  home  and  friends.  "No 
place  like  home."  No  play  so 
pleasant  as  work.  No  friends  so 
beautiful  as  one's  own  —  as  mine  to 
me.  And  so,  as  my  good  friends  from 
the  Emerald  Isle  would  say,  "  The  top 
of  the  morning  to  you." 


SECOND    LETTER    FROM    THE    ISLES 
OF   SHOALS. 

APPLEDORE  HOUSE, 
ISLES  OF  SHOALS,  August  16,  1883. 

WITH  a  little  time  and  pains-taking 
curiosity  one  may  find  a  good  deal  of 
real  interest  in  this  group  of  islands. 
Since  writing  you  last  I  have  been 
rambling  over  "  Star  Island,"  a  few 
minutes'  sail  south  of  our  Appledore. 
In  a  religious  point  of  view,  I  think 
the  "Star"  must  have  stood  eminent 
above  the  other  islands — six  in  all — 
eight  in  low  tide.  Standing  up  on 
high  ground,  or  rather  rock,  is  a  little 
church,  "pointing  with  taper  spire  to 
heaven  "-—little  used  now,  but  having 


Isles  of  Shoals.  261 

a  history.  On  the  north  outside,  in- 
serted in  the  wall,  is  a  marble  tablet 
with  this  inscription  : 

"  GOSPORT  CHURCH. 

Originally  constructed  of  timbers  from 
the  wreck  of  a  Spanish  ship,  A.D.  1685. 
Was  rebuilt  in  1720,  and  burned  by 
the  islanders  in  .1790.  This  building 
of  stone  was  erected  in  1800."  Re- 
liable tradition  says  that  eight  of  the 
wrecked  men  were  buried  near  by. 
This  building  —  very  strong  —  walls 
nearly  three  feet  in  thickness,  of  heavy 
stones  and  carefully  laid,  is  neatly 
kept.  Plain  benches,  with  backs — 
twenty-four  in  number — these  with 
pulpit  and  platform  of  the  same  wood, 
two  chairs,  straight-backed  and  cane- 
seated — the  whole  painted  in  deep 


262  Isles  of  Shoals. 

red — darker  now  for  age.  Once  in  a 
while  a  preaching  service  is  held  there. 

Farther  south,  on  this  island,  is  the 
graveyard  in  which  "the  rude  fore- 
fathers of  the  hamlet  sleep."  Two  of 
the  graves  are  marked  by  large  sand- 
stone slabs,  resting  on  piles  of  stones, 
matching  them  in  size  and  shape  as 
well  as  a  rude  but  reverent  masonry 
could  be  looked  to  do  such  work.  One 
of  the  stones  bears  the  name  of  Josiah 
Stephens.  Died  July  2,  1804. 

On  the  other  stone  is  the  name  of 
"John  Tucke,  graduate  of  Harvard  in 
1728;  ordained  July  26,  1732;  died 
here,  August  12,  1773."  The  memorial 
words  over  these  two  are  singularly 
affectionate  and  grateful  ;  the  closing 
line  over  Mr.  Tucke,  saying  of  him, 
that  he  was  "  A  careful  physician,  both 


Isles  of  Shoals.  263 

of  the  bodies  and  souls  of  his  people. 
In  memory  of  the  just." 

The  rest  of  the  graves  have  bould- 
ers for  headstones,  with  no  traceable 
inscriptions ;  only  here  and  there  a 
stone  can  be  distinguished  as  noting 
the  sleeping-place  of  one  who  was 
once,  perhaps,  a  prince  of  the  people 
here — perhaps  "  the  manliest  of  ye 
all."  A  few  more  years,  and  these 
rude  stones  will  give  the  stranger  or  a 
dweller  here  no  sign  to  distinguish  the 
"  inches  few "  where  the  generations 
here  have  their  sleeping-places — "  the 
last  of  earth." 

Overlooking  the  sea,  at  the  extreme 
soutn  end  of  the  island,  is  a  monument 
on  a  granite  pedestal,  in  memory  of 
"John  Smith,  who  was  Governor  of 
Virginia,  and  Admiral  of  New  Eng- 


264  Isles  of  Shoals. 

land.  Was  born  in  Willoughby, 
England,  in  1579;  died  in  London 
in  1631."  "These  islands,  properly 
called  Smith's  Islands,  were  discovered 
by  him  in  April,  1614,  while,  with 
eight  others,  in  an  open  vessel,  he 
was  exploring  the  coast  from  the  Pe- 
nobscot  to  Cape  Cod.  Vincere  est 
vivere. " 

A  little  way  west  of  this,  and  over- 
hanging the  sea,  is  another  tablet, 
telling  a  story  less  grand,  maybe,  but 
more  touching  and  tragic.  Clamber- 
ing with  care  part  way  down  the  beet- 
ling ledge,  you  find,  pendent  against  a 
perpendicular  wall  of  rock,  with  a 
something  like  a  rocky  seat  beneath,  a 
board  three  feet  square,  painted,  and 
inscribed  (the  work  carefully  done  in 
paint)  with  these  words  : 


Isles  of  Shoals.  265 

"  Miss  UNDERBILL'S  CHAIR. 
Miss  N.  J.  Underbill,  for  two  years 
teacher  of  the  youth  on  Star  Island, 
was  dashed  by  the  waves  from  this 
rock,  and  was  drowned,  September  n, 
1848,  and  was  much  lamented  by  this 
people." 

I  should  add,  that  the  sea  must 
have  been  at  the  topmost  of  its  "  rag- 
ing "  to  reach  her  at  that  height ;  for, 
though  down  some  way  from  the  top, 
the  "  chair"  is  still  high  above  the  sea's 
usual  Teachings. 

One  of  the  most  touching  things 
I  have  met  with  at  the  Shoals  is  a 
private  burial  spot,  perhaps  twenty 
feet  square,  inclosed  in  a  wooden, 
picket  railing — the  work  said  to  have 
been  done  by  the  father,  Rev.  Mr. 
Beebe,  with  his  own  hands — covered 


266  hies  of  Shoals. 

all  over  now  with  a  thick  growth  of 
shrub  willows  ;  a  dell  scooped  out  in 
shape  of  a  bowl ;  gate  shut  and 
locked ;  yet  a  something  is  there 
which  the  inclosure  cannot,  or  does 
not,  keep  from  human  feet  and  eyes 
and  hearts.  Getting  over  the  fence,  as 
others  have  done  before  me  (I  was 
alone),  and  stooping  my  way  along 
under  and  through  a  tangle  of  willow 
branches,  I  reached  the  centre  and 
lowest  point  of  the  plat,  and  there 
found,  what  is  almost  hidden  from  an 
outside  viewer,  a  monument  of  finest 
marble,  four  square,  tapering  slightly, 
six  feet  or  more  in  height,  and  resting 
on  a  granite  plinth.  At  the  base  of 
this  column  (on  all  sides,  I  think)  is 
the  name  BEEBE.  In  a  row,  on  the 
east  side  of  the  ground,  are  three  small 


Isles  of  Shoals.  267 

headstones,  perhaps  eighteen  inches 
high,  with  the  names  of  those  and  all 
who  have  been  buried  there.  Turning 
back  now  to  the  column,  and  tracing 
one  side  of  it  from  top  downward, 
you  read  : 

"JESSIE.  Died  May  30,  1863,  aged 
two  years. 

"  You  are,  dear  child,  '  far,  far  away,' 

Yet  near  in  spirit,  too  ; 
Welcome  indeed  will  be  the  day 
That  brings  us  all  to  you." 

"  MILLIE.  Died  June  12,  1863, 
aged  four  years.  Dying,  she  kneeled 
down  and  prayed,  '  Please,  Jesus,  take 
me  up  to  the  light  place.'  And  he 
did." 

"  MITTIE.  Died  June  23,  1863, 
aged  seven  years.  '  I  don't  want  to 


268  Isles  of  Shoals. 

die,  but  I'll  do  just  as  Jesus  wants  me 


to." 


Let  the  reader  note  the  above 
dates.  On  inquiry,  I  learn  that  the 
parents,  and  so  the  whole  family,  have 
passed.  Mr.  Beebe  was  greatly  be- 
loved in  his  labors  on  these  islands. 
The  parents  died  and  were  buried  else- 
where. 

What  volumes,  unwritten,  except  in 
God's  book  of  life  and  love,  do  those 
few  memorial  words  imply !  What 
mysteries  of  Providence — "a  great 
deep,"  "deep  in  unfathomable  mines," 
"deep  as  the  boundless  sea."  What 
sorrows  and  tears !  What  hopes,  that 
cannot  be  crushed,  or  "crushed  to 
earth,  will  rise  again."  Standing,  or 
rather  stooping,  there,  and  tracing 
those  few  simple  lines,  and  letting 


Isles  of  Shoals.  269 

fancy  fill  up  the  story  as  well  as  it 
could — poorly  at  best — there  came 
with  unwonted  power  to  my  heart 
those  blessed  words  of  Jesus,  "  Suffer 
the  little  children  to  come  unto  me, 
and  forbid  them  not :  for  of  such  is  the 
kingdom  of  Heaven." 


A  SERMON   ON   THE   POWER   OF 
HABIT.* 

Can  the  Ethiopian  change  his  skin,  or  the  leopard  his 
spots  ?  Then  may  ye  also  do  good,  that  are  accustomed 
to  do  evil. — Jer.  xiii.  23. 

.  IN  Scripture,  and  in  our  common 
speech,  there  are  two  "  cannots " : 
one,  meaning  the  want  of  power ;  the 
other,  the  want  of  will.  I  "cannot" 
lift  a  mountain — I  haven't  the  power  : 
I  "  cannot "  do  this  or  that  thing 
you  ask  of  me — I  am  unwilling  to 
do  it ;  it  is  against  my  way  of  think- 
ing, my  principles,  my  habits,  my  cir- 
cumstances and  convenience.  The 

*  This  discourse  was  written  with  no  thought  of  pub- 
lication. It  is  inserted  here  at  the  particular  request  of 
friends. 


The  Power  of  Habit.         271 

Ethiopian  "cannot"  change  his  skin; 
it  is  impossible  to  him  ;  it  is  against 
nature.  A  man  accustomed  to  do  evil 
"cannot"  cease  from  it;  he  has  no 
heart  to  stop  and  turn  ;  a  habit  upon 
him  holds  him  to  the  wrong. 

I  am  to  speak  of  the  habits  we  form, 
and  which  form  us  to  good  or  evil. 

The  law  of  habit  is  a  pervading  law 
of  man,  and  runs  through  all  the  ele- 
ments of  his  life,  as  do  the  arteries 
and  veins  in  his  animal  make.  We  see 
its  operation  in  the  little  things  of  our 
everyday  life — things  of  the  body,  the 
mind,  the  heart.  It  is  a  great  achieve- 
ment when  an  infant  for  the  first  time 
toddles  across  the  floor !  What  a  glee 
the  little  hero  has  and  gives,  and  how 
he  repeats  the  act  from  very  exuber- 
ance of  delight !  He  is  a  Columbus, 


272          The  Power  of  Habit. 

discovering  a  continent.  The  first 
steps  of  going  alone !  Was  ever 
wonder  greater  ?  But,  grown  to  man- 
hood, he  makes  whole  journeys  in 
almost  utter  unconsciousness  of  any 
act  of  the  will,  without  which  a  single 
step  cannot  be  taken.  So  of  one's 
gait  in  walking — peculiarities  of  atti- 
tude and  motion,  bend  of  the  head,  or 
swing  of  an  arm. 

Thus  it  is  with  bodily  habits — they 
cling  to  us — they  are  part  of  us — a 
second  nature.  Your  hand-writing — 
yours — recognized  and  accepted  as 
yours,  whether  found  in  the  hasty  note 
of  to-day,  or  in  your  last  will  and 
testament. 

Now,  the  spiritual  in  man  is  far 
more  susceptible  to  influences  giving 
us  a  fixed  moral  form  and  pressure. 


The  Power  of  Habit.         273 

A  mere  dream  leaves  on  you  a  shadow 
which  it  takes  you  days,  perhaps 
weeks,  to  shake  off.  "  Only  a  dream." 
True ;  but  that  something  stays  long 
in  spite  of  your  philosophy. 

Of  these  our  habits,  then,  I  remark  : 
i.  They  are  necessarily  formed.  The 
question  is  not  of  whether,  but  of 
what.  Habits  of  some  sort  you  must 
form — you  are  forming,  every  day. 
You  couldn't  help  it  if  you  would.  It 
is  a  law  in  our  make  and  moulding.  It 
belongs  inherently  to  all  action,  all 
growth,  all  life.  That  child  on  the 
floor — boy,  with  two  old  shoes  for 
oxen,  or  girl  with  doll  or  kitten — will, 
with  admirable  ambition  and  enter- 
prise, repeat  an  effort  fifty  times  to  fix 
that  thing  just  right.  You  wouldn't 
repress  this  zeal  in  that  child,  your 

18 


274          The  Power  of  Habit. 

child,  noise  or  none  of  it.  You  might 
be  destroying  a  roll  of  grand  prophecy 
if  you  did.  You  might  be  undoing 
the  miracle  of  a  tired  mother's  great 
love  and  great  hope.  The  child  is 
reaching  up  for  excellence — is  follow- 
ing after,  if  that  he  may  apprehend. 
He  is  in  college  already,  and  is  learn- 
ing faster  than  most  college  students 
do. 

So  of  all  experimenting.  So  of  all 
apprenticeships  in  arts  and  trades.  So 
of  learning  to  play  on  an  organ  or 
piano — this  going  over  and  over  a 
thing,  till  practice  brings  facility,  mas- 
tery, perfection.  It  is  something  very 
wonderful  and  instructive,  this  pluck 
and  patience  and  persistence  through 
years  and  years  to  reach  our  palms 
and  prizes. 


The  Power  of  Habit.         27 5 

Nor  one  habit  alone.  The  forming 
of  one  renders  easy  and  probable  the 
forming  of  other  and  kindred  habits. 
One  virtue  introduces  a  whole  sister- 
hood of  virtues,  as  the  evening  star 
leads  the  nightly  train.  One  vice  en- 
folds a  whole  brood  of  vipers.  Lying 
or  profanity  is  the  Trojan  horse,  enter- 
ing a  city  to  destroy  it.  You  look 
upon  the  swearing  boy  as  bad  already, 
perhaps  all  through. 

2.  Our  habits  are  early  formed — in 
great  part  in  childhood  and  youth. 
Then  is  the  nature  most  impressible 
and  most  flexible.  Then  we  take  our 
shape  and  color.  Then  are  the  soft 
clay  and  bird-tracks,  which  men  of  a 
thousand  years  afterward  shall  be 
looking  upon  with  wondering  eyes. 
You  cannot  bend  nor  straighten  an 


276          The  Power  of  Habit. 

old  tree  to  your  fancy.  You  must 
begin  with  the  sapling  and  tender 
plant.  "  Just  as  the  twig  is  bent,  the 
tree's  inclined."  "Train  up  a  child 
in  the  way  he  should  go,  and  when  he 
is  old  he  will  not  depart  from  it."  Oh  ! 
the  boon  of  a  Christian  home  !  The 
parental  love,  and  care,  and  counsel, 
the  prayers,  the  Scripture  reading,  and 
the  songs  of  praise  !  The  silken  cords, 
the  sweet  captivity,  holding  you  to  the 
right  and  true  and  good.  Not  often 
is  a  young  man,  all  right  at  twenty, 
found  afterward  flying  from  his  orbit, 
and  swinging  blind  amid  storms  of 
error  and  profligacy.  A  good  set- 
ting out  in  life,  we  all  say,  is  vastly 
momentous.  Oh !  how  many  his- 
tories tell  us  that  our  early  life  is 
formative  and  determinative !  Then 


The  Power  of  Habit.         277 

is    the    spring-time,    and     the     seed- 
sowing. 

3.  Our  habits  are  silently  and  imper- 
ceptibly formed.  Much  as  in  the  great 
forces  of  nature.  The  sun  and  stars 
move  in  silent  procession.  So  with 
electricity,  and  magnetism,  and  gravita- 
tion— mighty  forces,  and  marvellous  in 
their  effects,  but  giving  no  sound.  The 
thunder  is  noise,  but  is  harmless  ;  the 
lightning  is  silent,  but  rends  the  moun- 
tain. The  ocean  cable  stirs  no  ripple. 
You  stand  in  a  forest,  and  think  of  the 
great  miracle  going  on  in  silence 
round  you — that  forest  growth  !  and 

"  The  sound  of  dropping  nuts  is  heard, 
While  all  the  trees  are  still." 

Or  the  grain-field  in  June — marvellous 
that  process,  the  growth  and  ripening, 


278          The  Power  of  Habit. 

but  there  is  no  sound.  Your  clock 
ticks  off  the  moments  for  you  :  it  is 
the  clock,  not  the  moments,  that  you 
hear. 

"  We  take  no  note  of  time,  but  from  its  loss." 

Much  so,  my  friends,  is  it  with  our 
habits — a  silent  growth  and  proces- 
sion. They  steal  upon  us  like  a  thief 
in  the  night.  They  creep  with  soft, 
velvety  step.  They  take  us  unawares. 
That  unguarded  youth  is  all  uncon- 
scious of  the  malign  work  going  on 
in  him :  not  a  suspicion  that  he  is 
forging  chains  and  fetters  with  which 
the  Philistines  shall  some  day  make 
him  grind  in  their  prison-house,  and 
use  him  for  their  sport.  It  is  a  sap- 
ping and  mining  in  the  dark,  at  the 
seat  and  citadel  of  life — of  all  that 


The  Power  of  Habit.         2  79 

makes  life  worth  living.  Putting  that 
poison-cup  to  his  lips — not  a  thought 
that  he  could  ever  be  a  slave  to  the 
drink-fiend.  Not  he  ;  no,  never,  nor 
possibility  of  it.  "  Why,  man  alive,  do 
you  think  I  am  not  my  own  master  ?  " 
But  you  see  him  afterward  —  and 
how  changed !  how  the  demon  has 
him,  and  mocks  his  groans  and  tears. 
Is  this  fiction  ?  I  wish  it  were.  But 
no  ;  it  is  just  what  you  and  I  have  seen 
and  sorrowed  over — the  young,  and 
beautiful,  and  strong,  broken,  wrecked, 
slain  upon  their  high  places — sunk  to 
depths  from  which  we  never  see  him 
rise.  "  Died  he  not  as  the  fool 
dieth?" 

4.  Habits  are  rapidly  formed. 
Though  silent  and  unperceived,  the 
process  hastens  to  its  issue.  The  bird 


280          The  Power  of  Habit. 

hasteth  to  the  snare.  There  are  "  feet 
that  be  swift  in  running  to  mischief." 
There  is,  indeed,  a  diversity  here,  as 
in  nature  elsewhere.  There  is  in 
botany  the  century  plant.  There  is  in 
sacred  history  a  Jonah's  gourd.  It 
was  miracle.  But  there  is  something 
very  like  the  miraculous  in  the  swift- 
ness with  which  vice  sometimes  leaps 
to  its  goal  in  shame  and  sorrow. 
There  are  coral  islands  which  in- 
sects have  been  centuries  in  building. 
But  islands  have,  in  one  hour,  been 
heaved  up  from  the  ocean's  bed.  Men 
for  ages  have  been  repeating  the  Latin 
poet's  saying  :  "  The  descent  to  hell 
is  easy."  Our  down-grades  give  rapid 
travelling.  You  have  seen  a  young 
man  go  down  as  it  were  by  a  bound, 
from  apparent  virtuousness,  into  a 


The  Power  of  Habit.         281 

depth  of  villany,  where  none  could 
look  upon  him,  except  with  mingled 
pity  and  loathing.  Probably  the  bitter 
waters,  which  you  saw  come  to  the 
surface,  had  for  some  distance  been 
coursing  their  way  underground.  The 
tree  which  the  wind  blows  over  is 
founcj  to  have  rottenness  at  the  root. 
Very  likely  the  process  of  degeneracy 
and  decline  is  usually  more  laborious 
and  gradual  than  it  appears  to  be,  to 
one  looking  at  its  sad  issue.  Many  a 
one  has  to  dig  and  delve  to  reach  the 
lower  deeps.  "  The  wages  of  sin  is 
death  " — that  is,  if  you  want  perdition 
you  must  work  for  it ;  but  the  gift  of 
God  is  eternal  life — that  is,  if  you 
want  salvation  you  can  have  it  as 
God's  free  gift,  through  Jesus  Christ. 
To  reach  the  terrible  doom,  one  must 


282          The  Power  of  Habit. 

force  his  way  over  mounds  and  barriers 
that  infinite  love  has  reared  to  stop 
him — I  mean,  a  youth  brought  up 
under  the  sweetness  and  light  of  a 
Christian  home  and  nurture  ; 

"  And  when  he  falls,  he  falls  like  Lucifer," 

perhaps  "  never  to  hope  again."  It 
must  be  so,  for  our  life  itself  is  but 
an  inch  or  two. 

5.  Our  habits,  once  formed,  are  apt, 
are  almost  certain,  to  remain  upon  us. 
They  cling  to  us,  and  hold  us  as  with 
bands  of  steel.  To  say  of  one  that  he 
has  become  habituated  to  an  evil  way, 
is  understood  to  be  much  the  same  as 
saying  he  will  go  on  in  that  way  to  its 
goal  and  finish. 

The  drunkard,  for  instance  :  Oh, 
the  cords,  and  chains,  and  cables  bind- 


The  Power  of  Habit.         283 

ing  him,  body  and  soul.  Will  he  ever 
free  himself?  Marvel  if  he  does. 
Dismantled  wreck,  and  drifting. 
Will-power  gone.  Would,  but  cannot. 
That  awful  curse  and  thraldom.  Better 
to  wear  iron  clamps  on  every  limb  of 
his  body.  Only  let  the  mind  be  free. 
A  human  being  and  rational,  made  of 
God  and  for  God  and  glory,  but  made 
himself  a  bond-slave  to  such  a  demon  ! 
Reason  with  him  ?  Reason  with  the 
winds.  Expostulate  and  entreat  ?  But 
he  knows,  and  feels  too,  more  about  it 
than  you  do  or  can.  Never  did  wolf 
or  tiger  hold  his  victim  more  re- 
morselessly. In  our  old  school  geogra- 
phies was  the  picture  of  a  horse  and 
his  rider,  struggling  and  dying  within 
the  coils  of  an  anaconda.  Thus  of 
one  habit.  Much  the  same  in  all 


284          The  Power  of  Habit. 

courses  of  evil  and  sin — this  holding 
and  staying  property  and  power.  Once 
entered  on  some  evil  way,  and  com- 
mitted to  it,  and  how  hard  it  is  to  stop 
and  turn.  Thus  of  idleness,  falsehood, 
profanity,  keeping  bad  company,  pro- 
digality, profligacy  in  every  form. 
Once  the  mounds  of  virtue  swept 
away,  and  the  bitter  waters  become  a 
desolating  flood — a  Conemaugh  horror, 
shocking  the  world. 

Bear  in  mind,  my  friends,  this  bond- 
age of  habit  pertains  to  all  sinful 
ways.  There  is  a  habit  of  scepticism 
and  unbelief,  a  habit  of  cavilling  and 
contempt  toward  religion  and  its  pro- 
fessors, a  habit  of  thoughtlessness, 
prayerlessness,  procrastination.  "  I 
suppose  I  should  attend  to  the  subject 
(religion)  were  it  not  for  the  wretched 


The  Power  of  Habit.          285 

habit  upon  me  of  putting  off  every- 
thing to  the  last  minute."  Such  the 
answer  not  unfrequently  given  by  a 
man  when  pressed  with  the  gracious 
call.  And  doesn't  the  man  live  on 
and  die  giving  no  sign  ?  Amaz- 
ing thing  that  a  man  can  so  live 
and  so  die  under  Gospel  light.  What 
motives  and  mighty  influences  urge 
that  man  to  turn  from  his  way  and 
live  !  But  in  despite  of  all,  and  in  re- 
sistance of  all,  he  presses  on  in  the 
"  old  way,"  trodden  by  the  wicked  in 
years  how  many,  and  in  numbers  who 
can  count  ?  Runs  that  way  blindly, 
recklessly,  madly ;  and  the  end  is 
death.  Oh,  that  they  were  wise,  that 
they  understood  this,  that  they  would 
consider  their  latter  end  !•  Ah,  my 
friends,  there  is  a  "  bondage  of  corrup- 


286          The  Power  of  Habit. 

tion  "— "  a  body  of  this  death."  "  His 
own  iniquities  shall  take  the  wicked 
himself,  and  he  shall  be  holden  with 
the  cords  of  his  sins." 

The  text  has  led  me  to  speak  of 
habits  which  bind  to  evil.  But  there 
is  a  brighter  side  suggested.  Good 
habits  :  what  they  are,  and  what  they 
lead  to.  Wonderful  the  unanimity  in 
men's  beliefs  and  confessions  here, 
whatever  their  own  conduct  and  course 
of  life.  That  wickedest  man  is  human 
still.  With  choked  voice,  and  with 
tears,  he  says  :  "  Go,  my  boy,  go  to 
that  city  ;  be  brave  and  true,  and  shun 
the  evil.  Play  the  man.  Give  us  joy  of 
you."  Divine  preacher,  for  once," that 
father,  despite  his  own  practice.  I 
thank  him  for  his  sermon.  Astonishing 
thing  that  a  father  could  be  less  than 


The  Power  of  Habit.         287 

divine  to  his  child  anywhere,   in  any- 
thing. 

But  these  good  habits  :  habits  of 
temperance,  chastity,  and  that  "  clean- 
liness "  which,  you  often  hear  said,  "  is 
next  to  godliness  ;  "  habits  of  industry, 
order,  truthfulness  and  fair  dealing  ; 
habits  of  candor,  and  charity,  in  judg- 
ing ;  habits  of  self-control,  and  the  soft 
answer  which  turneth  away  wrath; 
habits  of  valiancy  for  the  true  and 
right ;  the  courage  to  say,  No,  to  all 
askings  of  wrong ;  habit  of  submit- 
ting questions  to  second  thought,  and 
conscience,  and  the  Bible ;  habits  of 
friendliness,  courtesy,  gentleness  to- 
ward all  men  ;  habit  of  a  pleasant  look 
and  word  to  children,  wherever  you 
meet  them — a  whole  mission  in  itself, 
and  of  the  best  ;  habits  of  keeping 


288  The  Power  of  Habit. 

at  home,  and  improvement  of  time  ; 
habits  of  observation,  of  study  and  re- 
flection ;  habits  of  prayer,  and  Bible- 
reading,  and  Sabbath-keeping,  and 
sanctuary  -  attendance.  These  good 
habits — rich  cluster — how  they  adorn 
the  person  and  life — wisdom,  more 
precious  than  rubies,  and  than  all  the 
things  thou  canst  desire. 

And  then  the  little  things  we  may 
be  doing  to  others  every  day — things 
having  the  quality  of  mercy,  which  is 
twice  blessed — "  it  blesses  him  that 
gives,  and  him  that  takes." 

"  If,  in  our  daily  course,  our  mind 
Be  set  to  hallow  all  we  find, 
New  treasures  still,  of  countless  price, 
God  will  provide  for  sacrifice." 

These  little  blessednesses  we  may  be 


The  Power  of  Habit.         289 

having  and  giving — giving  spontane- 
ously, naturally,  as  a  flower  gives  per- 
fume, not  because  it  makes  an  effort, 
but  because  it  is  a  flower — little  things 
as  they  come  to  hand — "  the  next  step 
in  the  path  of  God  before  you  "  :  fill 
some  young  life  with  sweetness ; 
steady  the  tottering  steps  of  the  old 
man  and  gray-headed ;  send  a  note  of 
cheer  to  a  sick  one  ;  place  a  flower  on 
a  craped  door-handle  ;  lend  a  hand  to 
a  tired  toiler ;  take  back  to  your 
neighbor  the  ox  or  sheep  that  is 
going  astray  ;  replace  the  rail  that  has 
fallen  from  his  fence  ;  "  speak  a  word 
in  season  to  him  that  is  weary ; " 
smooth  some  brow  furrowed  with 
care ;  brush  a  tear  from  some  sad 
cheek ;  kindle  a  fire  on  some  cold 

hearth ;    bring   some    wanderer    back 
19 


290          The  Power  of  Habit. 

and  home ;  tell  that  wicked  man  that 
Christ  "loves  him  notwithstanding 
all,"  and  stands  at  his  door,  knocking, 
and  waits  to  come  in  and  sup  with 
him ;  give  a  cup  of  cold  water  only,  if  all 
you  can — something,  any  thing,  where 
want  is,  and  love  can :  oh  !  to  think 
of  it — a  life  thus  filled  up — "  marked 
with  some  act  of  goodness  every  day  " 
— "  some  softening  gleam  of  love  and 
prayer."  Little  things  ?  No  !  they 
are  angelic,  divine — of  sweet  signifi- 
cance, and  mighty  power — pattern  of 
heavenly  things — a  following  of  Him, 
the  adorable  Source  and  Author, 

"  Who  gives  its  lustre  to  an  insect's  wing, 
And   wheels    his    throne   upon    the    rolling 
worlds." 

"  A  whispered  word  may  touch  the  heart, 
And  call  it  back  to  life  ; 


The  Power  of  Habit.         291 

A  look  of  love  bid  sin  depart, 

.    And  still  unholy  strife. 

No  act  falls  fruitless  ;  none  can  tell 

How  great  its  power  may  be, 
Nor  what  results  enfolded  dwell 

Within  it  silently." 

In  all  this  I  am  supposing  a  case, 
yea,  better,  I  am  describing  many  an 
actual  case.  A  young  man,  a  Chris- 
tian, building  himself  up  in  all  the  vir- 
tues and  graces,  coming  to  have,  and 
enjoy,  and  show  them  as  the  habit  of 
his  life,  as  the  character  for  which  he  is 
known  and  honored ;  and  bringing  him 
at  last  to  his  crown  in  heaven.  Silent 
process,  here  again ;  like  footsteps  of 
angels,  like  the  flight  of  time,  like 
growth  in  the  trees.  He  isn't  think- 
ing of  habits,  but  of  duties — how  he 
may  please  God,  and  do  good  to  men. 


292  The  Power  of  Habit. 

He  doesn't  see  the  growth  in  him, 
but  in  no  long  time  finds  and  feels  its 
blessed  force  and  effect  —  virtue,  a 
freedom,  a  strength,  a  joy,  a  life,  a 
great  salvation.  See  him  give  and 
lend — good  heart,  indeed,  but  good 
habit  also — and  thus  the  charm  in 
his  alms-deeds — the  ease,  naturalness, 
spontaneousness.  You  would  not  like 
to  be  told  that  your  friend's  gifts  to 
you  have  cost  him  a  struggle  :  rather 
say  of  him  that  the  gifts  were  the  easy, 
spontaneous  outcome  from  his  good 
nature — his  make  up  and  measure — -all 
he  is  and  is  known  for.  Suicide  means 
an  act,  or  a  man  doing  it.  Just  so  the 
sound,  giving  the  mere  name  of  many 
a  man,  is  instant  and  inevitable  sug- 
gestion of  whatsoever  is  good  and 
noble  in  heart  and  life.  "  A  good 


The  Power  of  Habit.         293 

name  is  rather  to  be  chosen  than 
great  riches."  And  think  of  how 
much  such  a  name  implies  and  stands 
for,  of  first  things,  and  last,  and  chief, 
in  our  present  and  our  forever.  Care, 
then,  how  we  build.  Or,  changing  the 
figure :  We  reap  as  we  sow,  in  kind 
and  in  measure.  "We  sow  an  act,  and 
we  reap  a  habit ;  we  sow  a  habit,  and 
we  reap  a  character ;  we  sow  a  char- 
acter, and  we  reap  a  destiny." 

Two  ways,  and  two  ends,  then — sin 
and  sinful  habits,  a  bondage ;  or  piety 
and  its  habits,  a  freedom — the  liberty 
wherewith  Christ  maketh  free.  That 
bad  habits  do  bind  and  enslave  is  what 
we  all  see,  is  universally  confessed. 
Who  denies  that  ?  Not  one.  But,  on 
the  other  hand,  there  are  many,  espe- 
cially of  the  young,  to  whom  religion 


294          The  Power  of  Habit. 

appears  little  else  but  hardship,  re- 
straint— a  gloomy  something,  to  be  put 
off,  and  pushed  aside  while  we  dare — to 
be  submitted  to  when  we  must.  Great- 
est of  mistakes  this,  and  most  calami- 
tous— Satan's  master  device.  Moses 
chooses  his  lot  with  God's  people — 
prefers  it  before  all  the  treasures 
in  Egypt.  Did  he  ever  regret  that 
choice,  think  you  ?  Mary  chooses  the 
good  part ;  did  she  ever  regret  it  ?  So 
of  Ruth,  and  many  another.  To  be 
on  the  Lord's  side,  consciously  a  child 
of  his,  and  have  all  his  yours  ;  to  love 
him,  and  serve  him,  in  his  glorious 
kingdom — to  have  in  you  the  new 
heart,  and  the  new  life — life  divine, 
spiritual,  mighty,  eternal ;  to  love  all 
men,  and  to  be  doing  them  all  the  good 
you  can  ;  to  have  faith's  victory,  and 


The  Power  of  Habit.         295 

hope's  anchor,  and  to  know,  that  when 
this  life's  inch  or  two  is  over,  there  is 
for  you  the  glory  and  bliss  eternal  in 
heaven.  Any  bondage  in  this  ?  Oh, 
no ;  it  is  freedom,  liberty,  in  the  high- 
est conception  of  it — it  is  joy  and 
peace — it  is  glory  and  blessedness. 
You  all  know  it  is.  There  isn't  in 
this  assembly  one  but  says  it  is,  and 
but  would  act  upon  it,  but  for  the  lie 
in  his  right,  and  those  whisperings  in 
his  heart — the  great  enemy  of  souls, 
"  with  all  deceivableness  of  unright- 
eousness "  using  his  arts  to  deceive  and 
destroy.  Take,  again,  this  one  Scrip- 
ture verse  :  "  The  fruit  of  the  spirit  is 
love,  joy,  peace,  long-suffering,  gentle- 
ness, goodness,  faith,  meekness,  tem- 
perance :  against  such  there  is  no  law  " 
— no  law  to  condemn,  nor  to  enslave — 


296          The  Power  of  Habit. 

nor  to  restrain  you  even,  except  from 
sin  which  does  enslave  and  degrade. 
"  But  then,"  says  one,  "  religion  implies 
sacrifices,  self-denials,  crosses,  war- 
fare." Yes  ;  but  think  of  the  glorious 
company  with  you  and  for  you  :  God, 
Christ,  the  Spirit,  the  church,  and 
all  good  angels — all  things  yours — a 
mighty  array — and  heaven  at  last. 
"  To  him  that  overcometh."  Is  there 
anything  nobler  than  that  ?  "I  have 
fought  a  good  fight ;  I  have  finished 
my  course;  I  have  kept  the  faith." 
Oh  !  to  be  able  to  say  that ! — to  say 
it  now,  and  to  say  it  when  all  the 
shadows  and  shows  and  shams  of  this 
vain  world  are  gone  as  a  dream — 
and  then  to  add  with  the  Apostle : 
"  Henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me 
a  crown  of  righteousness,  which  the 


The  Power  of  Habit.          297 

Lord,  the  righteous  judge,  shall  give 
me  at  that  day." 

A  young  man  or  maiden,  planted  in 
the  garden  of  the  Lord — garden  of 
lilies  and  spices — and  nourished  there 
by  all  the  blessed  agencies  and  influ- 
ences of  God's  redeeming  love  and 
plan  ;  and  soon  rooted,  built  up  into 
Christ  in  all  things ;  fruitful  in  every 
good  work,  strengthened  with  all 
might,  according  to  God's  glorious 
power,  unto  all  patience  and  long-suf- 
fering with  joyfulness."  Beautiful 
picture — not  mine,  but  the  Bible's. 
"  And  he  shall  be  like  a  tree  planted 
by  the  rivers  of  water,  that  bringeth 
forth  his  fruit  in  his  season ;  his  leaf 
also  shall  not  wither  ;  and  whatsoever 
he  doeth  shall  prosper."  Battles — 
perhaps  scars — they  are  honorable 


298          The  Power  of  Habit. 

scars,  and  vjctory  at  last ;  labors,  and 
then  the  heavenly  rest;  struggles, 
conflicts,  but  the  Delectable  Mountains 
in  sight ;  Jordan,  but  the  sweet  fields  ; 
the  cross  borne  for  a  little,  and  then 
the  crown  worn  forever ;  sighs,  yet 
singing : 

"  All  our  conflicts  end  in  everlasting  rest." 

Gave  up  the  pleasures  of  sin  for  a  sea- 
son, and  gained  the  pleasures  for  ever- 
more at  God's  hand. 

My  dear  young  friends,  will  you 
not,  like  Moses,  and  like  Mary,  choose 
the  good  part  ?  Will  you  not  choose  it 
now,  to-day,  and  so  receive  at  last,  and 
how  soon,  the  welcome,  Well  done  ! 

"  They  that  be  wise  shall  shine  as 
the  brightness  of  the  firmament ;  and 
they  that  turn  many  to  righteousness, 
as  the  stars  for  ever  and  ever." 


